The Diego Diaries: Fun (dd6 665)
=0=Clubbin'
They danced at The Club House, a place with good beer, snacks and a live band. It was an eclectic place in terms of clientele. One might see youngsters dancing in the same mosh pit of hoo-haw as elders.
Prowl and Prime disappeared into the bounding group as Ratchet and Ironhide sat with Blackjack. Ratchet was getting slag faced so he didn't go with Alor who went by himself to bound around and celebrate a win for his home town.
"Alie is getting blotto, 'Jack. What are you going to do about it?" Ratchet asked with a grin. He was halfway there himself.
"We're going to head for the barn sooner or later. But we're going to see you four back in one piece," Blackjack said. "Those three mechs are going to learn the hard way to keep their tempers."
Ratchet nodded. "I think Rockwell was surprised I sat by him at lunch time. He's a real sad sack."
"Don't get any ideas. Sun and Jack are enjoying this a lot," Blackjack said with a grin.
They were.
=0=At an apartment up high
"How was the tour?" Lissie asked as she sat and began to deal the cards.
Sun and Jack took theirs along with Hercy and Kup. Alejate and Cezar were working on their hands already.
Sun grinned. "I enjoyed myself. What about you, Jack?" he asked his brother.
"Fine as frog's hair. My mech is a bit of a wimp. I see Rockwell as the challenge. I do remember his father in the news. Social climber and greedy slagger. Not a bit surprised that he ended up this way himself."
"He's the son of Stellar, right? That crooked fragger … he made the worst crap and sold it for the most shanix. I never bought his stuff," Kup said. "Entitled little mech. He's going to learn the hard way."
Jack nodded. "I expect he is." He glanced toward a couch. "How ya doin', Hardie?"
Hard Drive glanced up from the data pad he was reading as he relaxed on the couch with a bumped helm.
Across from him holding a sleeping Prima while Prowler slept on the couch next to him, Delphi grinned. "Your nobbin got conked, or so a small yellow banded mech who looks like Ironhide would say."
Hardie chuckled. "He would, that one."
The evening would pass nicely as they played cards, gossiped with Cezar and Alejate and talk about things so old and far away that humans would have to stand with the last age of the dinosaurs to find a time frame equivalent to compare the conversation with.
=0=Clubbin'
They walked to the curb outside and swayed between Blackjack and Prime. Everyone else was slipping the bounds of decency though Ironhide wasn't as blotto as usual. He tried to stay sober and did so.
Sort of.
A cab finally drew up and all of them began to climb inside. It would be a tight fit but they'd close the door and order it to go to their tower. Outside, the night was getting onward and it was time to go home and sober up. The streets were still filled with pedestrians going out to celebrate the game. Over the next two orns more games would be played. None of them would be by undefeated teams. Iacon now was the one to beat.
"This was fun. Did I get beat up?" Ratchet asked as he sat squeezed between Ironhide and Blackjack.
"Nope," 'Jack said with a chuckle.
"We are leaving just in time," Prime said as Prowl sat in his lap with a big sappy grin. "Time waits for no one."
"That's because you're the Prime," Prowl said in a thick voice. He patted Prime's shoulder, then glanced around with an expression that brooked no nonsense. "FIRST DISCIPLE OF PRIMUS HERE!"
No one argued. They did, however, laugh loudly.
=0=Springer and Company
The police van drove off with new deposits for the Prime's Brief in magistrate's court in the morning. A few duffers had a difference of opinion about who had a better offensive line in the football orns of yore back in The Golden Age.
When the Watch arrived they turned to the tall youngsters and began to pepper them with questions about who was a better passer, a better center and who was a better fighter, Iacon or Vos.
Springer and the boyz stared down at the little mechs who were arguing loudly, then turned on each other in spite of their presence to slag once more. Reaching down, Springer and Drift gently picked both up, held them until the van arrived, then gently deposited them inside.
Three little old femmes and a little old mech were watching with frowns and crossed arms as they were packed away for their ride to the hoosegow.
Drift glanced at them. "Are you alright, Abbas?"
The group stared up at him, then nodded. "We are," the oldest looking femme said. "Thank you for taking them. They've been fighting over this since Unicron was a pup. We would like some peace and quiet."
Drift grinned. "Okay."
They took particulars, told the elders what to do to get them back, chuckled over the distinct notion that they wouldn't be rushing to the courthouse tomorrow to do that, then mounted up to leave. There were half a dozen other calls at the moment and it would go on like that all night long.
=0=Tower 1, home at last
They crawled out of the cab, then motated toward the big double doors of their tower. Ratchet reached it first, then grabbed for the handles to open them and go inside. He grabbed at several in front of him, though there was only one handle on each door. Swatting and patting, pawing at the air, Prime moved him gently aside to get the door.
Ratchet smiled brilliantly, did a staggered curtsy, then ambled slightly sideways into the lobby. All of the others followed, reached an elevator, then entered. The ride up to floor 24 was complicated by Prowl trying to get off, too, and Alor playing with the buttons on the panel.
Ratchet, Ironhide, Alor and Blackjack stepped off on their floor. Alor and Ratchet waved elaborate and noisy farewells as the doors closed on the elevator. Because Alor had played with the buttons, they would have to stop at each floor on the way upward until they reached the penthouse, all 26 floors above.
Prime didn't mind. Prowl was maudlin and telling him how much he loved him, what a good mech he was, how he needed to have the applause he deserved, all of it. It was amusing as anything Prowl did and the ride upward was hilarious.
=0=Going home
Alor walked to each door they passed and tried to enter it. Fortunately for him, most of the doors on that side of the corridor belonged to Ironhide and Ratchet.
Blackjack who had only a beer or two was sober as a judge and highly amused by Alor. Tugging him along, they made their way.
Ratchet was staggering along walking in a convoluted meandering way from wall to wall toward the door of his apartment. He remembered it, all fifteen of them and was determined to get home and 'check slag out'.
"Them kids … they're in there somewhere."
"Everyone has them, Ratchet," Ironhide said as he gripped Ratchet's arm. "We're going to go to the door, go inside and sleep it off. Okay?"
Ratchet smiled then turned toward Ironhide gripping him around the neck. "Sounds good. You're a good mech, Ironhide. You do slag for everyone and then you play ball. You won. You won the game for Iacon and you aren't even Iaconian." Ratchet teared up. "YOU'RE MY HERO!" he bellowed.
Down the hallway a door cracked open, then closed again.
"Oh, slag. I better get him inside fast," Ironhide said as he gripped the door knob of his apartment. "Can you handle Ada?"
Blackjack chuckled. "Since before you were born."
"I'll see ya in the morning. Diner?" Ironhide asked as he held a swaying Ratchet.
"Sounds good to me," Blackjack said as he opened the door to his apartment.
"I'm going to play the bagpipes for you, 'Jack," Alie said as Blackjack gently steered him inside.
"Sure you are, Alie," 'Jack soothed with a chuckle. The door closed behind them.
"That slagger has my pagbipes," Ratchet said. "I better go get them," he said as he started for their door.
Kind of.
Ironhide grabbed, then pushed him through the door. "No you don't, old mech. Inside you go."
The door closed behind them, too.
=0=Inside
"Why don't you give yourself the cure, old mech. You're slag faced," Ironhide said as he held Ratchet's arm. He was swaying under the shower, singing to himself as he drenched in the warm wetness.
"Where's the fun in that?" Ratchet said as he smiled under the deluge of water.
"Stay here," Ironhide said as he walked to the corner to pick up towels from the infant's bathing earlier.
Ratchet leaned against the wash rack walls, then began to slide downward. He landed on his aft, tipped over and fell into a stuperous sleep.
Ironhide who tossed the towels into a hamper nearby glanced at Ratchet. Walking over, he turned off the water, then grinned. "I'm leaving you there, slagger. It won't be the first time either."
Pulling Ratchet over to arrange him more comfortably, he grinned again. "Good night, Ratchet," he said.
Ratchet slumbered onward so Ironhide walked out, turned off the lights and headed for the berth room where he fell over and into recharge nearly immediately.
=0=In the sky
Prowl sat on the berth waiting for the cure to do its magic. It did, then he lay back. "This is fragged."
Prime chuckled as he put the cure kit that he'd gotten from Wheeljack back in the wash room cabinet. "You do put as much energy in getting slag faced as you do everything else. You have that going for you."
Prowl grinned, then stood still slightly unsteadily. "You're loyal."
"So are you," Prime said as he gathered Prowl into his gigantic arms. He kissed him, then grinned.
"What?" Prowl asked.
"I was thinking about the human's reactions to our modes of affection," Prime replied as he swayed with Prowl in his arms.
"You mean 'kissing'?" Prowl asked with a smirk.
"Did I not just say that?" Prime asked as he walked to the berth and dropped Prowl like a rock. The smaller mech bounced, then lay back with a grin. Prime leaned down, then sprawled next to Prowl, pulling him closer. "They find it strange."
"Frag them," Prowl said as he stroked Prime's face. "You were amazing. Undefeated."
Prime nodded. "It was fun. I enjoy this a lot."
"I know. We're going to be a two sport champion," Prowl said smugly. "I have just the place on the mantle for it."
"You might have to arm wrestle for it," Prime said as he pulled Prowl even closer.
"I can take Ratchet," Prowl said as he turned on his side to face Prime.
"I was thinking Chromia," Prime replied with a chuckle.
"You may have a point," Prowl said, then he didn't say anything for a while.
=0=Nearby
Blackjack took the bagpipes from Alor who was getting ready to play them in the middle of the living room. "No you don't," he said with a chuckle. "Move onward. Berth time."
Alor smiled. "Berth time?"
"Yes," 'Jack replied as he steered Alor to the berth. "Time to sleep it off."
Alor stepped forward, hit the bed, bounced and ended up on the floor facing the window. He fell immediately into recharge when he did.
Blackjack stared at the floor and his bond. "I'd lift ya, Alie, but you're dead weight and I ain't got it tonight." He checked that Alie was comfortable, then lay back on the berth. He was sound asleep in nanoseconds.
=0=TBC 5-20-19
NOTE: Starscream once said in a show that he was too young to die because he was only 126,000,000 years old. I'll take him at his word. I've sort of thought about the bots being 4 million years old but that sort of sets the time frame for the time between The Fall and the modern era. The bots are way the hell older than that. Thanks, Starscream.
"No problem, insect."