The Diego Diaries: The Morning After (dd7 350)
Note: I am editing this behemoth and messed up re-posting some of Diego Diaries Part 1. I replaced those and someone is reading ahead for me. All boo-boos will be hunted down and hammered into submission. Thanks for your patience. :D:D:D
=0=The Diner On The Corner, Autobot City
They sat together eating, exchanging information about the night before and catching up on the news. It was homey, fun and funny. Children sat on laps and pets napped in holds as the elders shoveled their faces.
Ratchet glanced at Smokey. "What's the story on you and what's his name?"
Smokey who was chewing on something good glanced at Ratchet, then frowned. "He's got a decaorn in the jail. Couldn't happen to a bigger tool."
Dev grinned, Smokescreen snickered and the rest of the mechs smirked.
Hercy glanced at the kid, then grinned. "Young love. Isn't it sickening."
"I'm not in love with him," Smokey retorted defensively.
"No ... lust maybe," Sunstreaker said to be ornery.
Smokey frowned at him, then began to eat again.
Sideswipe chuckled. "No witty reply? It must be true then."
"Hardly," Smokey said acidly. "That clown can take a hike."
"I hear you're shoveling sand in the Temple District," Sandstorm said with a snicker. "That must be unholy. Get what I did there?"
Everyone did and many were the remarks about the unholy amongst the heavily heathen before it settled again.
Sandstorm glanced at the kid. "That I guess means you shovel all of it by yourself. Right, Raptor?" he asked.
Smokey glanced at him sharply. "Why? I can save his half for him."
"But what about the priests? You know how sweet they are and how dedicated. They won't feel right or be able to recharge if the District is dirty or messed up," Splice said. "Am I right?"
Everyone nodded and it was quiet again.
Smokey glanced up at them. "I know what you're trying to do."
"What are we trying to do?" Sideswipe asked as some the elders among them listened and watched with ENORMOUS fascination, This was so far out of Styre, Stealth, Venture and Miler's experience that it was debatable they were on the same planet as the others.
Smokey shifted slightly under the scrutiny. "You're trying to make me feel badly. That's what you're trying to do. Well, you can't."
It was silent again.
Sideswipe glanced at the others. "Am I? Are you?"
Everyone shook their helms in the negative including Dev and Smokescreen. Everyone stared at Smokey silently.
The kid glanced at all of them including his only and most beloved grandparents, then felt himself turning to dust inside. "Aren't you?" he asked.
Hercy grinned. "If you want us to, then yes."
Snickers rounded the table. These were professional full time (mostly) soldiers of tremendous (to the last one) and great (usually) experience, especially in the art of humor and gaslighting n00bs. No one was going to make this easy.
Smokey sat back staring at them. "I'm not talking to any of you." Then he went back to his food as everyone there laughed loudly except for Prowl and Prime who grinned instead. One had to maintain appearances amongst the troops.
Prowl glanced at Ratchet and others at the table. "Reports due by tomorrow of your part of the mission."
Groans bloomed like dandelions until Prowl amended the remarks. "Then a meeting at 0900 in the conference room at The Fortress.
"Oh, that's alright. I'll have it in."
"No problem. Don't knock yourself out."
"Knock yourself out, slagger."
"Damn, Ironhide … in front of his ada?"
"I AM IRONHIDE! I SAID IT IN FRONT OF PROWL'S ADA!"
Huge laughter greeted that as Prowl mused coolly upon Ironhide. "We're going camping in one orn. What are you going to do about the children? If I may ask. And remember, there will be no alcohol involved."
"You don't think we can take care of our own kids without booze?" Ironhide asked.
"No." -every ada there including some who had grown kids sitting at the table looking impossibly sexy.
Ironhide sat back, then glanced at Prime who shrugged helplessly. "Fraggers. I AM IRONHIDE! I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING AND NO ONE CAN MAKE ME DO ANYTHING I DON'T WANT TO DO!"
"Hand me the salt, Ironhide," Ratchet said.
"Here ya go," Ironhide said as he complied.
The conversation that followed discussed the virtues of bonding and its pitfalls, how the older you got the more you looked like your dog/cow and cats.
Think about it.
=0=Later that morning
The house was noisy with the laughter of children. The little ones were playing hearty in their bedrooms with Miracle, Sojourner and Solus with them. A cow was sleeping by the window standing on his tiny cowy legs and a dog was snoring loudly beside him. Sunning himself on the hairy broad back of Robby The Cow, Cousin The Cat was looking mighty pleased with himself.
Ironhide was sprawled in the chair reading a western novel while running rugby games with the sound off. Ratchet was out getting things done including a report for Granny so they could avoid a meeting the following orn. He would make up his own report a few minutes before it was due. HE WAS IRONHIDE! HE COULD MAKE THINGS UP!
All was well in his world.
=0=Ratchet deep diving into the data and working like a one-armed paper hanger
It only then occurred to him as he was sprinting through the report that they were all going to be camping in the Valles the following orn, the two of them and the Squad and thus, a meet up was impossible. Ratchet sat back in his chair with a grin. :Hey, Granny:
[Pause]
:Who is this? How did you get my number? I do believe I will call the Watch and report a crime in progress, Hacker Scum:
Ratchet laughed loudly. :My. Aren't you SALTY today, Prowler:
A moment was taken by a winsome winger sitting in his office to find the meaning, compose a cool facade again, then reply. :So … you bothered me for what reason?:
:We can't have a meeting tomorrow. We're going to be playing in the Valles with the old folks:
Prowl grinned. His own bags were already packed, the fraud. :Is that so? What makes you think I'm coming with you to the Valles to … what was it you were saying? Play?:
Ratchet grinned. Two could play at this game. :Oh you aren't? Okay. Bye: Ratchet commed off then began to countdown. / … three … two … on- .../
:Hey:
:Why, who could this be? Some kind of online scammer perhaps? Maybe someone is making an obscene call. Perhaps I should call my son, the Chief of Security for Everything, Everywhere to arrest you, pervert:
It was silent a moment, then a calm voice was back. :Are you done, Loon?:
:Nah, but you know how it goes: Ratchet replied.
Prowl pondered that. He didn't. Know, that is. His education on debauchery, drunkenness, slagging others and not sounding like his ada, letting things go for a moment and not feeling like he betrayed Primus and The One for being a 'sloth', not finishing the dishes in the sink each night, putting off laundry into the afternoon rather than getting it done in the early morning because his innate efficiency manual considered it 'optimal timing', making his bed later rather than sooner, picking up ALL the toys at night and not only putting them back where they belonged but in precision order, not noticing Prime's snicker when he helps pick up toys while he, Prowl lines them up like troops on their shelves, occasionally bending the corner of paper books when he doesn't have a bookmark and telling anyone who notices that 'it came that way', eating all the marshmallow treats in the middle of the night because they were 'calling to me' and hoping no one notices but they do because in the morning his kids will ask to take some to school for snack time and there aren't any there and you feel two feet tall when Spirit asks with his gentle sweet manner … like that … oh, and not getting every dust bunny under the couches but just the ones you can see and getting up in the middle of the night to get them because you're so disturbed you can't recharge … that education … it was still a work in progress.
:And your point is? Some of us are essential equipment and have things to do: Prowl finally decided to say because it was just snotty enough without opening up his rather limited but improving bantering skills to the Jackass King of Mars™.
That guy.
:What I'm saying is, I'm going home. If you want the report you'll have to get it at the Valles. I'm going to stick my helm into a barrel of ice cream and watch professional wrestling, or what I like to say … 'Amateurs who could learn a thing or two about fragging from Ironhide':
Prowl actually laughed out loud. Composing himself, he replied. :I thought bringing up The Sexy was off limits beyond the threshold of your door, Loon. You do understand the limits of my gag reflex, right?:
:If you say so. Be at the South Airfield by 1100 joors or be square. Ratchet out:
Prowl sat in his chair with an amused expression on his handsome face. "Oh, I'll be there, Loon. Count on it." He then began to gather up loose ends so he could go with confidence that all would be well while he was gone.
Ratchet snarked with Lee-Lee, then hit the elevator to the ground floor. Snarking with Knockout, he continued onward, crossed to the next tower, then took the elevator upward. Entering his house, he walked to his chair to sit. "What's playing, Big Boy?" he asked as he stole Ironhide's popcorn.
"I am, aren't I," Ironhide said with a chuckle. "Professional wrestling."
"Ah, you're going for authenticity," Ratchet replied.
"I'm checking my technique against the poseurs. After all, I hold multiple belts in The Sexy myself," Ironhide said with just a TOUCH of pride.
"My, my, my … you're strutting high today," Ratchet said with a chuckle. "I wonder where Raptor is?" though he knew anyway. Both of them laughed.
=0=Temple Inner Courtyard near the Temple School and other buildings for various purposes
Raptor sat on a chair with his peds up. He'd gotten a number of hot dogs and a beer from the food trucks nearby. It had amused him to see a sulking youngster wander in and glumly grab his pick, shovel and wheelbarrow. It made him highly entertained to watch Smokey the Younger begin to eke out a chunk of sand from the massive piles all around. Come the first orn next week when weekend was over, Raptor would get Hot Rod day paroled to him and the two would bang it out together again. Until then, it was Smokey's turn to pay the piper.
The three joors that Raptor assigned to this task would draaaag by slowly.
=0=Upstairs
Optimus Prime walked from the craft room where he and his children played with their trains. That is, they worked on and expanded the incredibly intricate diorama around which their many toy trains ran. It was a beautiful rendition of Cybertron. Earlier, they had gone to The Game Store and looked for more little houses, cars and a train car or two to add to their set.
Playing with them, that is, watching them play while adding a comment or answering a question had been a mellow pastime waiting for Prowl to come home. This was their orn as a family come The Pit or High Water so play was everything. They would do whatever the kids wanted them to do together as a family for the entire orn.
The kids would also get to choose dinner which was often an odd mix of just about everything and anything they wanted. Then they would play games, the older kids and watch the little girls do their most favorite activity, act out little plays that they authored, usually made up on the spot. They also usually included Miracle and Possibility as actors.
It would be hilarious.
So would an ove rnighter in the Valles the following orn.
=0-TBC 8-10-2020
NOTES:
Gas lighting: to make someone believe something that isn't true. In the old days it used to be a trick done with the gas lights that were pre-electricity. A movie in the 1930's called Gas Light sort of made the remark mainstream.
Salty: snide, smart mouthed, rude, smart assed. Its a really old timey word that's making a come back. Usually it was a substituted word for big mouth or something much worse that Victorian era people tried not to say in front of the children.