The Fellow Chit Chat Companion

"Hmm…"

"Ironhide?"

The red mech looked up from his table, to spot Sparkplug standing by his foot, looking small against a red block twice his size.

"You thinking about somethin'?"

Ironhide sat up from his slouched posture in his chair, looking up to the security video screens, but he was not consciously minding them.

"Yeah, I'm thinkin' about somethin'."

"Care to share?"

The human dragged his own chair up close, turned it around and crossed his arms over the back, head rested on top.

The red Autobot chuckled, and so did the human.

"Yeah, yeah, we old geezers always talk the ol' geezer nonsense."

"Fer someone who's fifteh tellin' 'is to a 'bot more than a mill'n years old…"

Sparkplug waved him off, "Whatever, whatever."

"Don't lick yer teen slang on me."

"How long have we been doin' this behind Optimus Prime's back? Four shifts?"

"Yer memory's short-circuited. Ab't eight shifts."

A low whistle escaped Sparkplug.

"Can't beat my record with my good ol' bud, Kup. Heh, wonder how he's farin' on Cybertron."

"You both date back many many years, huh?"

"Way b'fore any 'umans existed, fer sure," Ironhide chuckled, but a tinge of melancholy was still evident in his slang.

"So," the human adult cleared his throat, "what's bugging your cranium?"

"Hmm…"

Ironhide's optics shifted down to the human below him.

"You and Spike, that's what."

"Don't tell me. The thing about 'father and son' relationship and how we go about it, right?"

"Yep."

Sparkplug sighed, "You aren't the only one. Jazz asked me, so did Prowl, Ratchet, Bumblebee… Wheeljack one day when we were together, and even Optimus himself got a little bugged."

The human looked up to Ironhide, "I think one reason why you all don't quite get it, is because Spike's my flesh and blood, so to say.

You all 'create' another 'bot by parts and pieces of metal you purchase and put together, sometimes for others on order and demand. For me, it was taking care of Spike's mother when she was pregnant, all the way until his birth, and then looking after him from a baby to a child, and I'm still at that stage."

Ironhide leaned back in his chair, "'Nother thing I don't get. What's with this 'parenthood' stuff? I heard from Ratchet that human parents have this 'bond' with their kid, j'st by playing with them. You tie strings to each others' fingers while pickin' up teddy bears?"

Sparkplug laughed, forgiving Ironhide for the literal translation. He was, after all, coming from a land of wires and circuits.

"No no no, this 'bond' you're talking about is a sentimental bond. Untouchable, but there -" He paused for a bit.

"I think I told this to you a few nights ago."

"Refresh mah memory, will ye?"

"Now who's the forgetful one? You asked about how it's like being a father last Tuesday night."

"Ah…. So ah did…"

The red figure leaned forward on the console now.

"J'st… it keeps escapin' me all the time. I still don't quite get it."

"It's OK. No one else has, either."

"But what I do know, one way or an'ther, is that it's special. Yer're lucky to be a dad, eh?"

"Extremely lucky, Ironhide," the human sighed, scratching the short brown hair on his head, "Extremely lucky to see my boy grow up and learning stuff from all you guys. He's fourteen, ain't so young but ain't so old either."

"And ah'm sure you feel the funnies when yer son goes out with the others in a fight."

"That goes without saying. I trust my boy with all I've got to make sure he returns in one piece. Wish I could be there with him, but I'm stuck to the repair bay or Wheeljack's lab most of the time."

"He's no better than the twins, really. Yer oughta see Spike in battle mode! Picks up the gun and goes ballistic. We'd make a good warrior out of him."

Sparkplug frowned, "I don't want my son to be violent."

Ironhide nodded, "Ah, but yer only see that if no one's covering him – which rarely 'appens. Often Bumblebee and him'll scoot 'eir rounds 'round a few unsuspectin' Cons and when they turn 'round, we nail 'em. But Bumblebee watches over the kid as good as yer do. There's nothin' ter worry about."

"That's a relief to hear."

Silence lapsed in a brief moment, as both participants found little to say. The static and buzz from the security video feeds were all they heard for a while.

"Now yer got somethin' on yer mind."

Sparkplug looked up, "eh?"

"Yer're drumming your fingers again."

Sparkplug looked up, to notice that he was doing just that, rapping his fingertips against the chair.

"Yeah, something's on my mind."

"Care to share?"

Sparkplug smiled, but a wan smile, "Yeah… I'm just wondering if I'm a good Dad to Spike. I rarely see him until I'm done with the mechanic work and back in our quarters. He'd be asleep by then, so we don't have much time to talk or bonding time together."

"So… yer're worried the 'bond' ye 'ave with him won't last?"

"I hope it doesn't."

"Well then, ah'm sure one day we'll arrange ye both to have a little together time and -"

His optics lingered onto one screen, and he spotted something.

"Hey, ain't that Spike?"

The human looked up to the screen.

"Up past midnight?"

"He's making his way 'ere, I bet…"

Sure enough, the door slid open to reveal a dishelved and bleary-eyed Spike in baby-blue pajamas, one hand grabbing the door edge for support.

"What are you doing here, son?"

"I... I… came to join you, Dad."

"No, Spike. It's too late for you and you got a big day tomorrow."

"Nu-uh," Spike strode in, almost in a tipsy manner, and drew up a chair next to his father. He laid his chin on his father's shoulder, and gave him a glancing smile.

Sparkplug smiled back.

Ironhide snickered, "Lonely without yer pop, eh?"

There was no reply.

Spike had fallen asleep, his head against his father's shoulder and was snoring softly in reverie.

Sparkplug petted the boy's head affectionately.

"Goodnight, son."