Precipitous

Chapter 25-Accost

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.

Springer stared at the wall, unable to fall into recharge. He had a lot on his mind--everything from the Xantium's current status to how well Kup was going to take hearing he was involved with Ironhide. How Hot Rod was holding up was also floating around in his processor. Those thoughts dissipated momentarily as he felt Ironhide stir.

"How's Rodi?" Ironhide asked.

No inquiry as to what he was thinking about, direct and to the point as always. Am I so easy to read, Springer thought.

Ironhide felt Springer shrug. Hard to do considering he had his arms wrapped around his bunkmate.

"Haven't talked to him since this morning," Springer answered.

"So you don't know if he's talked to Kup," Ironhide asked.

"No," Springer said.

"And you haven't either," Ironhide said. "It's not like you to procrastinate."

Springer snorted.

"I know I'm going to have to tell him sooner or later," he said. "And what about you--afraid he won't approve?"

"Kup will have to deal with it," Ironhide said, nibbling at Springer's neck. "Speaking of relationships, has Rodi said anything about Optimus?"

"'Hide, don't pry," Springer said.

"I'm not," Ironhide said. "I just think Optimus needs help with his stubbornness toward a relationship with Rodi. They're both Primes. It makes sense, only, of course, Optimus doesn't see it. Or he does and he won't admit it."

"And you think you can 'help' Optimus?" Springer asked.

"Maybe," Ironhide said. "But perhaps I've taken the wrong approach toward trying to get Optimus to see the light. . ."

"'Hide," Springer cautioned.

"How do you think Rodi would feel about helping Optimus bring about the next generation of Primes?" Ironhide said.

The elbow in his chest ended the discussion.

-----

The morning briefing was almost over. Five more minutes and it was on to the weekly officers' meeting. Hot Rod was counting down the minutes, ready to bolt. Graham was standing up on the catwalk, going over their supply needs. The young Autobot was half-listening when Morshower suddenly switched gears.

". . .I'm going on vacation, so starting tomorrow you'll be dealing with National Security Advisor Theodore Galloway for the next week," Morshower said.

"Sir?" Hot Rod said. "Could you repeat that?"

"I'm going on vacation," Morshower said. "I'm sorry to say you'll be dealing with Galloway until I get back. Now, if that'll be all. . ."

"Yes sir," Graham said, ending the briefing. His eyes met Hot Rod's optics. Neither said anything, but the look said it all. The next week was not going to be pleasant.

Graham climbed down, walked with Hot Rod out of the communications hangar toward the Autobot living quarters.

"At least he's not coming here," he said.

"Doesn't matter," Hot Rod said.

"He has been easier to deal with since Egypt," Graham said.

"He's still a pain in the aft," Hot Rod said.

"Maybe Prowl will take your place for the briefing?" Graham offered.

"Not likely," Hot Rod said. "He can't stand him either. Besides, I wouldn't ask him to. It's not fair. I'm Prime."

-----

The officers' meeting went well until it came time for Ratchet's report. Especially the part about the operational status of various mechs recently injured in combat. Kup hadn't paid much attention until Arcee's name came up. Not much was said--only that her current condition was nominal, considering circumstances and though she was removed from combat duty, she had been cleared for helping with training and monitor duty as long as she didn't push herself too hard.

Hot Rod ignored the ancient mech until the meeting was over, then he found himself dragged out into the corridor.

"Anything else going on around here I should know about?" Kup said as Hot Rod tried to head to the rec room for energon.

"Nope," Hot Rod said.

Kup stopped him.

"There's only a couple of reasons why a femme like Arcee'd be pulled off combat duty," Kup said. "Either she's been insubordinate, but since she's not in the brig, that leaves one other option."

Kup gave Hot Rod a sidelong glance. He didn't say anything, just kept walking. Kup stopped, put a hand on his shoulder.

"Lad, is there something you're not telling me?" he asked.

Hot Rod gave him a strange look.

"About what?"

"Arcee," Kup said. "She's carrying, isn't she?"

Hot Rod sighed.

"Yes," he said.

Kup was staring at him, arms crossed, one optic ridge raised questioningly.

"What?" Hot Rod said, glaring back. Then the lights went on. "No. It was not me."

He started on his way again, waiting for Kup to catch up.

"Why does everyone think it was me?" he muttered.

"Springer then?" Kup said.

"Again, no," Hot Rod said

"Then who?" Kup said.

"Ask Arcee," Hot Rod said. "You haven't talked to her yet."

-----

Optimus Prime sat propped up on his berth in the med bay, reading. Ratchet had finally supplied reading material that had nothing to do with work.

The data pad in his hand was barely keeping his interest, however. His optics kept straying to Ratchet's office, where the medic was having a private conversation with Sideswipe. The door was closed and the windows were soundproof, ensuring he wouldn't be able to hear what was being said, except Ratchet's expression and body language spoke volumes. Tense, and if Optimus was reading him right, a little ill, too.

As if the medic could sense he was being watched, his optics met Optimus' for a second, forcing the Autobot leader's attention back to his data pad. A few moments later, the door to Ratchet's office opened.

"Thanks, Ratch," Sideswipe said. He walked out of the office, flashed Optimus a grin on his way out.

"I have no idea who he thinks he's going to find to work on his 'project' and if I find out who's willing to 'help' him. . ." Ratchet muttered.

Optimus noticed the medic's optics looked a little wild.

"What're you looking at?" Ratchet snapped. "You're too nosy for your own damn good, you know that? Ever heard of medic-patient confidentiality?"

He went quiet for a few seconds, pondering the conversation he'd just had, suddenly remembering there was a question he'd been meaning to put to his beloved leader.

"Arcee's current condition--did you suggest she find someone to procreate with or was that an order?" Ratchet said.

Optimus set down his data pad.

"I did not order Arcee to do anything of the sort," he said. "I didn't suggest it. Actually, she came to me with the idea. All I gave was my blessing."

That seemed to placate the medic. A little.

"So you haven't ordered anyone to get on with rebuilding our race?" Ratchet said.

"No I have not," Optimus said.

"And I don't have to worry about having to deal with more than one carrying Autobot right now?" Ratchet said. "Although the thought of *someone* settling down, starting a family of his own would do a lot of good. . .that kind of stability would go a long way in helping establish the idea that we are here to stay on this planet and are going to be more than just a fighting force to protect the humans."

The medic regarded his Prime thoughtfully, hoping he'd take the hint. Kup had said something interesting earlier that day about Primes--if the ancient mech remembered right, only two Primes or a Prime and a femme of Prime lineage could produce another Prime. Not that Ratchet wanted to find himself optic-deep in sparklings. It was something he wanted Optimus to consider for the future.

"Gen. Morshower knows we are here to stay," Optimus said. "And he has brought up the issue of our future more than once."

"Good," Ratchet said. "That's all I needed to hear."

-----

Graham walked across the tarmac, eyes glued to his clipboard, going over the list of supplies the Autobots needed to set up their science lab. Prowl had kindly forwarded him the e-mail that morning, much to his annoyance. Coming up with the normal supplies needed by both humans and Autobots was one thing, supplying a lab was another. And then there was Galloway to deal with in the morning. He knew his presence wasn't required during the morning teleconference with the Pentagon, but as acting NEST co-commander he wasn't going to leave Rodimus hanging. He'd be there, suffering along with the Autobot out of duty and friendship.

So engrossed in thought was the human he almost didn't notice the Autobot who was standing in his way. The blocked out sun and whirring of servos as the Autobot bent down to get a better look at him brought Graham back to his senses.

"Sir," Graham said. "Kup, correct?"

"I'm Kup," he said. "And you don't have to call me 'sir.' I may be old, experienced, and an officer, but I don't go by that type of formality. You must be Graham. Hot Rod mentioned you."

"Where I come from, and by my training, I've been taught to address a respected elder and officer as 'sir'," Graham said. "Rodimus has mentioned you more than once."

"All good I hope," Kup said.

"Mostly," Graham said.

"If he said anything bad, he was lyin'," Kup said. "Taught the lad everything he knows. . .most of it, anyway."

Graham fought back a grin.

"And even if he says I didn't, I'm the one that knocked any grain of sense he has into that thick processor," Kup said. "Me and Ultra Magnus."

"Rodimus has shared stories of his training," Graham said.

"The lad must like you if he's talked about that," Kup said. "I hope he counts you among his friends."

"Sir, Rodimus is my closest friend among the Autobots, well, he and Jazz," Graham said.

"I'm glad to hear it," Kup said. "C'mon. I need someone to fill me in on everything I don't know and I might as well start with you."