Yesterday a child came out to wonder

Caught a dragonfly inside a jar

Fearful when the sky was full of thunder

And tearful at the falling of a star

- Joni Mitchell: The Circle Game -

"Here we go, bit. You hungry?"

Bluestreak nodded, but kept his arms around Jazz's neck as they entered the rec room. This room was big, the biggest Jazz and Prowl had taken Blue to, and there were always a lot of mecha and tables and noise. It scared Bluestreak a little, even though he'd been there several times now.

It was a good thing that Jazz was there. He'd promised to take care of Bluestreak and keep him safe.

So Bluestreak nodded, yes, he was hungry, and pointed to where the machine that poured out energon stood. Then he held on tight as Jazz walked across the room.

"One big cube for me, and one small cube for you. Wanna do th' honors?" Jazz smiled down at him as he held up the little tube of additives Ratchet had said Bluestreak needed in his fuel.

Bluestreak grinned. He held the tube still for Jazz to twist the tip off, and then squeezed as hard as he could, pouring the stuff inside into the cube.

"There we go, love." Jazz took the almost empty tube and squeezed the rest out. "So, see anyone you want t' sit with today?"

Bluestreak looked around. There were a lot of mechs here, but he didn't know any of them. He frowned up at Jazz. "Where Bubblebee? Where Blastoh?"

Jazz grinned. He liked when Bluestreak used his words, though he seemed to like it when he didn't, too.

Jazz just seemed to like Bluestreak. And Blue was happy with that.

"Bumblebee's workin', baby Blue, and Blaster's in recharge. He worked all night. D'you see anyone else you want to say hi to?"

Bluestreak looked around again. Some of the mechs were too loud, and he didn't like that, and some of them looked grumpy, and he didn't like that at all. But there was one who looked nice, and he was quite close.

He pointed. "Who that?"

"That's Hound," Jazz replied. "He's nice. Want to go say hi?"

Bluestreak nodded. He hid his face against Jazz's plating as they walked over to the table, though, only peeking out when they stopped. Just to be sure.

"Hey Hound," Jazz said. "Mind if we sit down here?"

The green mech looked up at Jazz, then at Bluestreak, optics brightening in surprise. "Uh, sure! If you want, I mean." He smiled. "You must be Bluestreak, huh? It's good to meet you."

When Hound smiled, his optics crinkled in the corners. He looked kind.

Bluestreak decided he liked him.

He let go of Jazz's neck, turning around in Jazz's arms as he sat down. He fit perfectly underneath Jazz's bumper. This close, he could feel the warmth of Jazz's spark, just like when he curled up against him for recharge. It was comforting, and Bluestreak wanted to snuggle in against the warmth and safety, but the green Hound mech was looking at him again.

"Can you say hi, bit?" Jazz asked, handing him his small cube.

"Hi, Hound," Bluestreak said shyly. He hid behind his fuel, looking up at the other mech.

"Hi, Bluestreak," Hound replied, smiling again.

"So how're things?" Jazz asked. "Last I heard, you were stuck on night shifts?"

"Yeah, I was." Hound smiled, looking down. "Ironhide did me a solid and traded me around with Windcharger, at least until Mirage is cleared for duty again."

Bluestreak stopped listening to them. Grownup talk was boring. So he sipped at his fuel, cuddling in against Jazz's plating and spark-hum and using the safety of his perch to sneak glances at the other mechs.

There was a loud mech over in the corner. He was really loud for being as small as Bumblebee, and the other ones were just as small but a bit less shouty. It was hard to tell if they were having fun or being angry with each other – it seemed to be a bit of both. Bluestreak was happy he wasn't sitting with them.

A few tables over, a mech was drinking his energon and reading a datapad. He had doorwings, like Bluestreak's and Prowl's! He looked a lot like Prowl, really, and Bluestreak leaned forward to get a better look, his own wings flittered in curiosity. He poked Jazz in the stomach. "Jazz? Who that?"

Jazz stopped talking mid-sentence. "Who's who, bitlet?"

Bluestreak pointed, and his doorwings fluttered again. "Him, Jazzy! Got wings! Look!"

Jazz chuckled. "That's Smokescreen. He's a Praxian too, just like you an' your new carrier. You can meet him 'nother time, bit, 'kay?"

"Okay," Bluestreak said. He was a bit sad that he couldn't meet the mech now, though. He had wings! "Why?"

"He's busy," Jazz replied. His thumb rubbed Bluestreak's tummy. It felt nice. "He's fillin' in for Prowl, that means a lot of extra work. We'll talk to him another time."

Bluestreak frowned, but nodded. He understood being busy, Prowl had taught him what that meant. "Okay."

Next to Smokescreen, a bit closer to Bluestreak's table, there was another mech sitting by himself. He was mostly white, and his head was… weird.

Prowl had said he shouldn't call people weird. It was okay to say unusual, or interesting, or fascinating, or captivating – but they were all really difficult words, and Prowl was the only one Bluestreak knew who used that kind of words. But Prowl said that some people got sad when you said they were weird, so it wasn't a very nice thing to say.

That mech's head was a bit weird, though.

Bluestreak kept looking. The mech had a face mask, just like Optimus Prime did. And he had wings sticking out of his helm. It made him look funny. He didn't look scary, though – he was just sitting there, all quiet. Just like Prowl sometimes did.

But then he looked up and caught Bluestreak staring. Bluestreak squeaked and ducked down to hide behind his energon cube.

When he dared to raise his head again, peeking at the mech over the rim of his cube, the mech winked at him. The weird wings on his helm blinked blue.

Bluestreak stared again.

The mech had a glowy head.

Slowly, he sat up straight again and tried to wink back. But he couldn't quite manage, so ended up dimming both optics instead.

The mech smiled at him. Or Bluestreak thought he did, since his optics crinkled at the corners just like Hound's did when he smiled.

When Bluestreak lifted his hand in a tiny wave, the mech waved back. His helm wings blinked again.

Bluestreak smiled widely.

The strange mech raised his hands, hiding his face. Then he pulled his hands away real fast and blinked his helm wings brightly.

Bluestreak giggled.

Jazz's hand stilled on his tummy. "What're you laughin' at, baby Blue?"

"Look!" Bluestreak pointed just as the mech flashed his helm wings again. "Lights!"

Jazz chuckled. "Makin' friends, are ya?" He raised his voice. "Hey, Wheeljack! Come join us!"

Hound pushed his chair aside to make room as the funny mech carried his cube over to sit at their table. Bluestreak was still staring at him, but the mech was staring at him too, so it was probably okay.

"Bluestreak, this is Wheeljack," Jazz said. "'Jack's an engineer. Means he builds things."

Those lights blinked again. Bluestreak giggled.

"Hey, Bluestreak," the mech said. "It's nice to meet you. You know, I got somethin' for you!"

Bluestreak squealed, and Jazz had to take his energon cube before he spilled it everywhere. He knew those words.

Wheeljack's helm wings flashed, and he pulled out a little box. "I made this for you, Blue, when I heard you got to stay with Prowl and Jazz. It's a… welcome present, I guess."

"What do you say, Blue?" Jazz prompted.

"Thank you!" Bluestreak chirped. He took the box eagerly, and shook it. Something rattled inside.

"Want some help with that?" Hound held out a hand for Bluestreak's new box.

Bluestreak didn't need help, though. He bit down on it, and the whole top came off.

"Or you can do it like that," Hound said, sounding amused. "Primus, he's adorable, Jazz."

"My treasure," Jazz said, kissing the top of Bluestreak's helm.

Inside the box, there was a tiny toy figure. It looked a lot like Prowl's alt mode, except the colors were wrong – the toy was a shiny silver with green racing stripes. It fit just right in Blue's hand.

"The wheels work," Wheeljack said, wings blinking again. "If you put it on a smooth surface and pull back, it'll drive on its own."

"That's really cool," Jazz commented.

"Cool!" Bluestreak agreed. He'd learned about cool from Jazz. It was one of his new sire's favorite words, so now it was Bluestreak's favorite word too.

He held the car up towards Wheeljack, shaking it slightly. "Drive?"

"Want me to show you?" Wheeljack took the car and slid out of his seat to sit on the floor.

Bluestreak loved when the adults played with him on the floor. He wiggled and twitched until Jazz chuckled and put him down as well.

Bluestreak watched as Wheeljack pulled the silver car back and then let it go. It zoomed across the floor before smacking into Smokescreen's leg, wheels still going fast enough that the toy flipped over, rolling twice before finally coming to a stop upside down.

Bluestreak laughed so hard he fell over. "Again! Again!"

Smokescreen smiled at him and leaned down to pick up the car. "Hey, Bluestreak. I'm sending this back to you, 'kay?"

"Okay!" Bluestreak chirped brightly, pushing himself back up. "Thank you!"

"He's getting talkative, isn't he?" Hound said behind him, as Wheeljack reached out to catch the silver car as it sped towards them.

"Yeah, he is." Jazz rested his hand on Bluestreak's head, thumb rubbing across his chevron. "Ratchet says he should probably have been talkin' more'n he is, anyway, considerin' what we believe his age t' be, but with everythin' that's happened… We're takin' what we get and are just glad t' see him happy."

"All sparklings develop differently," Wheeljack offered, sitting back down with the toy in his hand. "And he's doin' perfectly well. Want to try, Blue?"

Bluestreak took the silver car. He pressed it down against the floor and pulled it back, and it zoomed off again.

This time it flew past Smokescreen's table, bumped into a table leg, swerved off to the side and vanished behind the legs of a mech walking past.

And was gone. He didn't see where it stopped, and now it was gone.

Bluestreak's lower lip wobbled. His door wings trembled.

Then he burst into tears.

"Oh, bitlet." Jazz's hands picked him up, and he was cradled against that familiar frame. "What happened?"

"Gone!" Bluestreak cried. "Gone, Jazzy!"

Another hand touched his back gently. "Don't worry, Bluestreak," Wheeljack said. "I saw where it went. I'll go get it for you, okay?"

Bluestreak managed to nod. "'Kay," he sniffled. He turned his head to watch Wheeljack cross the room. Jazz crooned at him and rubbed circles across his back.

Wheeljack stopped at the loud table and talked to the mechs sitting there. Bluestreak watched with wide optics as all the small bots slid from their chairs and started crawling around on the floor.

It didn't take long at all before the small red loud bot stood back up with something silver in his hand. He gave it to Wheeljack, smiling and waving at Bluestreak before sitting back down with his cube.

"Let's wipe those tears away, baby Blue," Jazz murmured. "Cliffjumper found your toy, see? 'Jack's bringin' it back now." He ran a thumb across Bluestreak's cheek.

Bluestreak nodded and let Jazz wipe away the tears with a soft cloth.

Wheeljack crouched in front of them, holding out the silver toy. "Here, bit. No harm done."

"Thank you," Bluestreak managed. He took the toy carefully. Then he reached for Wheeljack.

"Oh," Wheeljack said softly, then unfamiliar hands took him, cradling him close to an unfamiliar frame.

Still safe, though. Wheeljack was a friend, and safe.

Wheeljack sat down with him, and Bluestreak leaned sideways against Wheeljack's chest and rested his head against the warm white plating. He was very tired, suddenly.

Jazz was smiling at them. "You should be proud, 'Jack. You're the first one he's wanted t' pick him up aside from Prowler an' me. Everyone else have t' handle watching from a distance."

"He's precious." Bluestreak's helm was nuzzled. "Thanks for trustin' me with him, Jazz."

"He really is adorable." Hound grinned. "And he calls you 'Jazzy'. That's so cute."

Jazz shrugged, smiling. "He can call me anythin' he likes, I don't mind."

Bluestreak snuggled closer to Wheeljack, relaxing into the arms cradling him. It was hard to stay online now. And when Wheeljack began rocking him gently, he yawned widely and slipped into recharge, still with his new toy in his hand.

"Rrrrrrrr! Beep beep!" The silver car raced across the floor. Bluestreak crawled as fast as he could, pushing the car along. "Rrrrrrr rrrrrrr."

Prowl sat down on the floor next to him and ran a hand down his back.

"Hello, my love. I heard you had an eventful day."

"Rrrrrrrr!" Bluestreak kept pushing the car. He hadn't tried letting it go, in case it drove off on its own again. Wheeljack wasn't here to find it for him this time.

"That's your new toy? It's very nice."

"Jack," Bluestreak replied, holding the car up for Prowl to see. "Cool."

"Very cool." Prowl smiled at him. "I'm glad you made a friend, Bluestreak. Do you want to spend time with Wheeljack another day?"

Bluestreak nodded and drove the car down the top of Prowl's leg.

"That's my good bitlet," Prowl murmured. He leaned down and kissed Bluestreak's head. "Ready for your bath and berth-time story?"

Bluestreak frowned, showing Prowl the car again. "Busy."

Jazz dropped down on the other side of Bluestreak, stretching his legs out and chuckling. "I can see that, sweetspark. You're havin' too much fun t' go to berth, ain't you?"

Jazz looked at Prowl. Prowl looked at Jazz, then at Bluestreak. Then he smiled, and his doorwings dipped. "All right then. Ten more minutes." He held out a hand towards the car. "Can I try your new toy?"

Bluestreak grinned and gave him the toy. Then he crawled into Prowl's lap and rested against his stomach. "Rrrrrrr."

"That's right, love. Rrrrrrr." Prowl pulled the car back and let it go. It sped across the floor only to crash into Jazz's stretched-out leg.

This time, Bluestreak didn't lose track of it for a moment.