Mother By Any Other Name

e . elusive : maybe in the future when everything's a bit settled and they're used to Harry and his power there would be new sparklings, in addition to the four, and Harry actually being called 'mother' (or some derivative of it), and him being resigned/amused/fondly exasperated (Ch. 26: Savior By Nature, HP&Transformers)

(Warning, warning!: Baby sparkling cuteness lurks ahead!)

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"What's it going to be?" Sam asks Harry, he sits and looks at the little egg, hugging one leg, the other wrapped protectively near the glimmering wiring of a shell. With the spark within it gleams and glistens, the pulse of a heartbeat. In an instant he had once seen the Energon Cube create life that had no purpose but hate: this little one, this sparkling, will be different. It's the first real life he's seen Harry make as the Mother of Living Energon, the first of a breed of Transformer born on Earth.

Not the first – one of the first five, there is Knight Bus, and Ford Anglia, and Hogwarts Express – and Black. Sam wasn't there to see them brought about, and he doesn't know how Harry did it – doesn't ask, because it's sort of awkward, and while he does want to know – he doesn't want to know what cause Harry had to use so much Living Energon all at once, to give sparks to magical machinery, as if he were the Cube dying and reaching out a final time to quicken life.

Life, Sam thinks, brought Harry back – the life of his sparklings.

Sam shudders to think of Harry dying, but neither of them can die now – they are the Mother, the Father, and the Prime - Optimus Prime – is their voice: the Autobots the protectors, the Decepticons the defenders. As it should be, as it once was and will always be.

"Do you mean – is it going to be a Decepticon or an Autobot?" Sam looks up, because that isn't Harry speaking; it's Black – glaring down at him. Black is Harry's shadow, just as Bumblebee is his – and Sam's never asked if they were lovers like he and Bee – if they still might be. Black is hard to get along with – damn near impossible if you've got bones and blood unless it's Harry.

Sam flushes in the face of those glittering grey and red eyes, like looking into a storm and knowing there is no avoiding it.

"No, I meant – damn-it, I meant a boy or a girl." Sam knows his face is red, because he hadn't thought of in terms of Decepticon or Autobot as he was being accused of. Black blinks at him, startled, he's accused Sam of hating Decepticons more then once – and once would have been right – only now and then now reminded, smugly that the Mother favors Black and thus the Decepticons.

"A girl..." Harry answers, in a distracted murmur, his hand glowing blue and white going to the metallic egg, holding it, cradling it. He gives it a spark, and feeds it Energon.

"Like Arcee? Badass!" Sam cheers up, grinning, he can't help but be happy with Harry, and he feeling of home and the sparkling - it's his family. For all that he's called Father he's never felt like one before – especially not to Optimus Prime or the others – but this, it's different – Harry had always been the Savior, the Mother – because he'd come to NEST that way, and met Sam that way.

Harry's eyes flick to him, and there is a smile Sam had won. It's a sight to see, and it is worth enduring Black's snarky ways.

"It's time." Harry's fingers tap against the shell, as if waiting for a response. Then there is one, tap-tap-tap-tap, right back in perfect mimic. Black gives him a wide-eyed and panicked look, and Sam doesn't have to ask to know Black is asking to flee gracefully. Black is a sparkling still, and this isn't something any Decepticon or Autobot likes to see: because they don't want to be imprinted on, there is only one Transformer that other Transformers should imprint on – and that's Optimus Prime, who carries the Father's gift of theCreation Matrix of Leadership. Sam waves, and Black flings himself out of the room – Hogwart's closing it behind him.

"Come on out little guy." Sam croons, not sure if he should touch or not.

Harry gives him a look, and Sam remembers – girl Transformer.

"Gal." He grins back at that look; Harry sighs and turns his attention to the egg. Sam can't help it then, he touches it, it's warm to the touch, and the sleek feeling of the metal is comforting. This is real, and it is happening, but he's not alone with it - her – he'd really be panicking if Harry wasn't here, he knows.

Harry is the Mother, he should see his daughter born: Sam knows he isn't' a bad "Dad" he hasn't left this little egg alone since the Decepticons had made peace with the Autobots officially, after their union – Starscream led the Decepticons, and Starscream answered to Harry as all Decepticons did: only the Autobots followed the Father, followed him – and by doing so followed Harry. It wasn't going to be a problem, because Sam was going to make this work – not only for the Decepticon and Autobot peace, or for the good of the world and his birth country – no, it was because he really liked Harry, liked feeling whole. Harry was a part of his soul, maybe because of the Cube: more likely to him, the Cube had found what was already there between them – what might be, and possibility – and brought it out, so they would find each other – like that, they were lucky.

The metal egg becomes something he can see through, as the little sparkling stretches and strains against the threads that nurtured it. Harry is silent, but smiles – that little body is straining toward him.

"That's it, come on – you can do it." Sam urges, not feeling silly at all. After all: it works.

With a little cry of triumph, the sparkling stumbles out of it's metallic egg, a egg formed by Energon given off while Sam was around Harry – of that much Sam is sure, he helped – the sparkling is "his". It's tiny but lunges for Harry, it makes Sam think this isn't going to end well – the sparkling may be just a little gal, but it's still metal and solid – she lands on Harry's lap, air franticly venting and metallic limbs trembling with strain.

"Ma!" A whine, and Harry glances to Sam who is grinning – and can't help it, certainly can't stop.

"Mama?" She whimpers, shuddering and looking up at the both of them with big bight blue optics.

Sam tries not to snicker: she looks to him for direction, for help – those blue optic asking why won't Mother answer me? Where is he?

"Savior." Sam gives a pointed hint, with a look to Harry – annoyed green eyes roll, but fondly Harry – the Mother - offers his fingers to his sparkling, the living light of white and blue dancing across the room. It's the only light in here, peaceful and resigned, Harry lets the sparkling feed from his fingers.

The suckling feeling of Energon – magic – going and gone - stops, suddenly – and the sparkling gal burps, blinking wide optics at the falling sparks of Living Engergon.

"Enough?" Harry asks her softly, soothingly. She's curled between them, and Sam finally dares touch her, a warm and living metal hide.

"Yes, Mother." Bright optics close, so Harry's exasperated sigh is seen only by Sam: whose smile is lovingly warm.

"She'll learn." Sam promises, with a wink. Harry somehow doubts that, with the mischievous glimmer in those eyes that match the sparklings: but he can't help but smile back.

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(Quickly, readers please review so I know the cuteness did not kill you! If you feel the urge to prompt me something, feel free – as it's been established: Abby Ebon does not do mind reading.)