Male Is As Male Does
Chapter 8
Captain Graham was at ease. He was beginning to enjoy his downtime. He was now used to the Autobots and the craziness associated with being around them; yes they were rather awesome, but they had their dorky moments too. He was happy to be in a warm, sunny environment - with a BEACH, no less! The British Military couldn't boast that! - and his talents and skills were being utilised to the best of their ability. It was a pleasure to show the new NEST recruits around the Garcia base and it was such a lovely day for a tour.
"Now this, gentlemen, is the Autobot's private hangar, and you will not – Jesus – EVERYONE HALT!" Graham flung out an arm to stop the handful of new troops from proceeding any further. He kept his arm out straight and waited patiently as Wheelie ran screaming full bore past him with a furious Optimus Prime not far behind at full stretch on his heels. The recruits stared with various degrees of awe and fear at the giant - and obviously angry – red and blue flamed robot.
Once the commotion was past their little group, Graham lowered his arm. Unruffled. He brushed at some dirt Prime's feet had flung up onto his uniform.
"Nothing to worry about lads, that big fella was Commander Optimus Prime. Nice bot, the biggest one here, very kind and concerned about humans but stay out of his way when he's pissed or you might have an accident. Right then, what was I saying? Ah yes, this is the Autobot's hangar, don't wander into it without an invitation, it's their sanctuary from us fleshbags. If you need something just stand in the doorway and scream, one of them will come out eventually."
Not many of the recruits were listening to the Captain. They were staring at Optimus Prime. All three-storeys-tall of him. Whatever they had thought alien robots would look like, this wasn't exactly it. The massive mech had lunged at the tiny running robot and was standing triumphantly on the tarmac with Wheelie grasped in one large hand. Holding Wheelie upside-down dangling from one leg and using his fingers as rough tweezers, Prime shook the little bot like a teddy bear.
Captain Graham noticed the complete lack of attention the new soldiers were giving him. His shoulders sagged a little from their usual proud and stiff position. Damn robots were always upstaging the humans.
"Ah, ahem. That's...," he cleared his throat, "ahem, that is a Decepticon that Prime is, er..." Graham winced as Prime smacked the tiny Decepticon on the aft and hissed something that sounded rude at him, "...training. He's teaching him how to be an Autobot. He switched sides during the skirmish in Egypt."
The eyes of the recruits all looked at Graham with a united expression on their faces of 'You've got to be kidding'. Graham put on his best serious expression and stared back at them. Unflinching.
"I think it's time we went and checked out your duty rosters. Come along, gents." He led the nervous troops away, giving Prime space to chastise Wheelie. Whatever beef Optimus had with the ex-Con, Captain Graham didn't want to know about it. If Wheelie was drop-kicked into the next country by the massive Commander's angry foot, Graham was going to plead the fifth.
Optimus noticed his convenient lack of a human audience, and turned his wrath on Wheelie. Blue optics that practically flamed with holy fury bore down onto the brave little bot.
"You will apologise to Arcee for interrupting us, and you will NEVER open a shut door again," Prime growled angrily, pointing a thick metal finger at Wheelie and poking him hard in the chest with it, "nor will you ever speak of what you witnessed."
"LEMME GO YOU STINKIN' AUTOBOT! And don't you wipe those fingers over me, I know where they've been!"
Prime braced himself at hearing such a blatant remark thrown his way, then shook his head with a very disappointed expression, "Wheelie, I do not stink, and after having experienced going hand-to-hand with Megatron, I can assure you that I clean my armor and protoform much more often than he ever does. Nor am I rusty." He gave Wheelie's chest another pointed jab, "And where I chose to put my fingers on Arcee is none of your concern!"
Wheelie didn't like being this close to the Autobot Leader. Sticking his fingers up in a double-barrelled version of 'The Bird' at the enormous mech like he'd learnt to do from the late departed Frenzy, he was determined to show that he was not a bot to be intimidated.
"Hey Prime, guess what?" Wheelie burst out.
Before Optimus could reasonably stop himself, he found his vocaliser grinding out a short-tempered reply. "What."
"Megatron is bigger!"
Wheelie flashed his bird fingers again at the dumb-founded Leader and started laughing.
Optimus cursed silently and forcefully took his weapons systems offline when they began to heat up from the frustration and fury flooding his systems. Normally he wasn't that easily flustered or irritated, but the interruption of his time with Arcee when he had been primed, intimately engaged, and ready to perform his duty - coupled with Wheelie's determination to 'get' him - had him on edge. He was in control enough to not let his inner thoughts or emotions show on his face, but he was feeling it. He ignored the fingers and Wheelie's taunt, and levelled a steady glare of 'I am not amused' at the ex-Con. He never expected his Autobots to be rude or disrespectful towards him, but that didn't mean he didn't know how to deal with it when it happened. It was time for a lecture.
"Young bot," his voice was determined and even, his optics blazing bright blue, "I expect that young and small mech's like yourself would not have much experience to be able to comfortably deal with what you just witnessed. However, I do expect you to use some maturity and grace to control your instinctive reactions. These are the hallmarks of an Autobot."
"Oh yeah?!" Wheelie thrashed in Prime's grip, waving his arms wildly, "You may think you're Primus's gift to femmes, but I'm not so innocent, or little! You mech's with the big interfaces, you don't have to work for things like we do, those of us with economy size packages." Wheelie pouted, grouching his words and gesturing. "I've been around, I know what I saw! And you know what? I wanna go back to the Decepticons! NOW!"
Optimus Prime lifted his arm up higher and held Wheelie up in front of his face, close enough that if Wheelie had been so inclined, he could've reached out and smacked the Autobot Leader on the noseplates. Not that he'd go that far. He was in enough trouble.
Optimus narrowed his optics dangerously at him and allowed his rumbling voice to drop to a disturbingly deep level. "Too late. You're with us now..." Then he began smiling. It wasn't a nice smile either.
Prime did not on principle lower himself to making threats or using blackmail, but he thought it was very appropriate at this time to remind Wheelie of who controlled the femmes in his army. He often used the same tactic on Ironhide when his more primal urges to blow things up and lose control made him dangerous to those around him.
"Wheelie, I am a Prime-"
"Well, DUH!"
"Be quiet," Optimus demanded, shaking a finger in Wheelie's face. "All femmes of Autobot allegiance are mine by Cybertronian law. You had better start improving your behaviour according to Autobot regulations - which I know I transmitted to you - or I will refuse permission for any of them to be in your presence forevermore. I protect them and I guide their actions. Do you understand me?"
Wheelie jerked back with his mouthplates hanging open and then began to tremble, his blue scanty armor rattling loudly. Oh yeah, he got it. A future without a femme to play with was a horrifying one, and humping the leg of his Warrior Goddess wasn't going to cut it.
"Oh shit. Oh shit."
Optimus nodded, satisfied. His head lifted to look out over the airfield, optics shrewd, the sunlight filtering over the planes of his face enhancing the brilliance of his very male features. "I also think you need to spend some time on your own to contemplate how to improve your actions to an acceptable standard, and I have just the place."
Outside Ratchet's room...
Ratchet had shoo'ed the soldiers out, declaring his CMO duty over and done with. He'd conveyed only enough information as he was willing to part with, and no more. The men; for their part; weren't ready to know any more about what their big robot friends did in their personal lives. They hadn't wanted to know right from the start. It was only Prime's strange behaviour that had forced the issue at all. Lennox in particular was struggling with the new intel. Being shorter than the bots meant that he was always looking UP at them; more specifically, up at their crotches; and now he had a good idea what Optimus was hiding behind his armored groin region, so he was going to make it a priority to practise not stammering and blushing when he looked upwards.
"You know," Epps paused as Ratchet gave him and Lennox a small wave on their way out of his room, "what he's saying sounds very logical to me. If someone had forced me to sit down and explain what I thought Transformer sex was like, I probably would've said something like Ratchet explained to us."
Lennox gave his friend a surprised look. Partly because Epps just didn't talk in long sentences, but also because he had been frantically hoping that robot sex involved extension cords and flash drives, and he now knew that innocent hope had died a crude death. Thank you very much, Prime.
"...I agree," Will said slowly, blinking in the sunlight streaming in through the hangar door. "It makes sense. Horrible sense, but sense." He looked around outside the hangar. "And where did Prime and Wheelie disappear to? I don't see robot blood sprayed everywhere, the big guy should've squished the little guy by now, Optimus ain't slow. Maybe we better-"
Epps stuck a finger past Will's face, stopping his words and forcing his eyes to look where he was pointing.
Will's eyes widened. "Oh."
Chained to the bottom of the NEST official flagpole at the edge of the airfield tarmac was the small form of Wheelie. The link chain Mikaela had originally used to restrain the Decepticon with was back in place around his neck, one end welded to the flagpole and the other to his neck. The tiny bot was sitting on his aft with his arms crossed angrily over his chest. He lifted his head to stare at Epps and Lennox.
"What?" he demanded. "Quit starin' at me! Haven't you meatsacks got somethin' better to do?! Leave me alone, willya!"
The meatsacks did indeed leave him alone, walking past him with their mouths shut and making nary a sound – until they turned the corner to their residential quarters, then their laughter came ricocheting back to him.
"Boneheads," Wheelie grumbled. Then the sky opened up and it started to rain. "HEY!"
One week later, on a mission to Columbia...
Will sat with his back to the wall of an abandoned ex-military compound. Fully armored up, packing heat and waiting for orders from NEST command. Epps sat on his right hand side. It was peaceful with just the two of them. Arcee, the Twins – Mudflap and Skids – and a small detachment of soldiers were scouting the area, performing reconnaissance and reporting their findings. So far, everything was quiet. Even the jungle surrounding them was quiet. And boring.
"What do you think their babies look like?"
Epps blinked a couple of times at having his peaceful silence interrupted and re-ran Will's words back through his head to make sure he'd heard him correctly. He then turned his head to squint at Lennox. "Excuse me?"
"Babies. Transformer babies. Ratchet said they could have them." Will shifted his weight from one butt cheek to the other, scrunching his backpack to the wall. "I wonder what they look like."
"This is dangerous territory, man, I don't think I want to go there with you." Epps faced forwards again, resolutely shutting him out.
Will insisted, "No, hey, I was thinking-"
"The thinking? Please don't."
"Oh shut up, hear me out," Will growled, "if Optimus has the option of reproducing, I think he should. I mean, look at what happened, Megatron took him down and we lost our Prime. Like Sam told us, Jetfire said Optimus was the last Prime, apparently there used to be lots of them. Knowing what we're facing with the Decepticons, we need more Primes. I can't understand why Optimus hasn't figured that out already."
Epps gazed upwards at the cloudy sky, "...you think someone like Optimus should have babies."
Will glared at him, "What's wrong with that? I have a baby! There's nothing wrong with soldiers having babies."
"Right," Epps muttered, rolling his eyes.
"No, look, I'm being reasonable here. If Optimus has a son or daughter or whatever it is they have, then his family line will continue on. We're ensuring the survival of the Autobots," he pointed his fingers at himself, "and us! Humans, I mean. We need to have a Prime around. I think he should consider it."
"Then go and tell him, not me," Epps said warily, giving his friend a sideways look.
"...you're not helping," Will griped.
"Yes, I am. They're not married."
"What's that got to do with it?!"
"I don't think Arcee should be a single mother," Epps explained.
"Oh for...! They don't need to be married! Prime owns Arcee! Hell, they're already doing it together, it won't take much of a stretch to actually produce something from it."
"Fine. Let me just say something here. Arcee is one quarter Optimus Prime's size. If whatever he produces as a baby is anything like him, I feel sorry for Arcee having to carry it. How's she supposed to be pregnant with his kid? Tell me that!" Epps huffed, pointing a finger.
"I don't know," Lennox shrugged, not put off, "but obviously they manage it somehow, because Ratchet was implying that they can do it."
Epps shook his head, "You're mad, man. And you know what?"
"What?"
"If Prime has to be changing nappies or whatever in the middle of the night, and staying awake to deal with all the carry-on a baby puts you through, how pissed-off and distracted is he going to be on missions? One mistake with that rifle of his and WHAM, that's a couple of us turned into carbonised particles, all because you bounced up and down telling Prime he should have a kid."
Lennox's eyes widened. "Oh shit... let's forget about the baby thing."
"Thank you."
