"Red." Firestorm pointed to the large sign as he walk his son through the quiet streets of Iacon, heading toward the district's school building.
"Wed." Red Alert repeated.
Firestorm stopped, the small mechling halting behind him. "Red."
"Wed?" The child's light blue optics shone nervously.
"Red." This time Firestorm put more emphasis on the 'r.'
"Rwed." Red Alert tried again.
"That's good enough for now." The pair continued walking.
Red Alert moved closer to his father's long legs as they passed through the gates, soon entering the sprawling school building. His little hands reaching out for Firestorm's, but pulled back as the tall mech's hand twisted way. They stopped in front of the front desk, manned by two chipper bots, painted in bright, friendly colors.
"I am Firestorm." He reached down and lifted his son to were the two bots could see him. "This is Red Alert. He is here for his first day in the first grade." He set the child back down on his peds.
"Let's see." One of the bots flicked through the list of transfer and new students. "Here we are. I'll take you son to his class." The yellow and pink mech stepped around the desk, extending a heavily painted hand to the mechling.
"I would actually prefer to drop him of directly there." Firestorm stepped between the unnamed mech and his son.
"Uh, okay?" The yellow bot turned. "Follow me then sir."
⃠⃠⃠⃠
"Call on line one for you." Firestorm looked up from his files as Morning Glory stepped into his office, pointing at the green light flashing on his desk.
"Oh, thanks." He depressed the button. "Firestorm speaking." Morning Glory stepped out to give him privacy.
"Hello, this is Clear Moon from District Three grade school; I'm Red Alert's teacher."
He nodded his helm, remembering the short blue femme from that morning. "I hope you are not calling because he has broken a rule, I thought he learned them all quite well."
"Oh no." Clear Moon gave an almost laugh. "He's just fine in that respect. But I'm a little worried about some of his behavior, I'd like to speak with you about it when you come to pick him up later."
"Yes, speak to you then." Firestorm ended the call, he had a lot of work to get done if he was going to have time to talk with Clear Moon. Hopefully his son wouldn't be in too much trouble for whatever it was that he did; there was a lot of work to do for his client's upcoming hearing.
⃠⃠⃠⃠
"Tell me mister Firestorm, has your son ever seen a femling before?" Clear Moon's hard blue hands were clasped on her desk, her optics intent. She evidently wasn't big on small talk. That suited Firestorm just fine.
The corners of Firestorm's mouth flicked down. "I am unsure of how this is relevant. What exactly did my creation do for you to ask this?"
"Well," the teacher looked down at the small mechling seated next to his father. "Care to tell your sire what you did today?" The femme had a strong voice.
A mumble. Firestorm looked down at the small sound.
"Red Alert," he commanded, "look up and speak up."
The child raised his red helm. "I-I said bad wods."
"Tell your sire what you said." Clear Moon ordered.
"I said Blossom isa weid name, and that mechling shouldn't be colod pink." Red Alert lowered his helm in shame.
"I see." Firestorm turned back to Clear Moon. "I will insure that this does not happen again. My creation will be sure to treat all students with the proper amount of respect from here on out. If that is all, we will be leaving now." The red and yellow mech stood, the mechling hurrying to his side. The door closed behind them, leaving Clear Moon alone in her office to think over the day's events. All in all, she didn't have a very high opinion of the lawyer's parenting skills.
⃠⃠⃠⃠
"What have I said about saying things like that to anyone?" Firestorm inquired as he and Red Alert climbed the last few steps to their home's front door. His creation gulped and looked down, wishing he could just disappear forever. The child made no response as they crossed through the entryway and into the dark home.
"Not talking, are we?" Red Alert shook his helm, he'd be in big trouble no matter what he said. Firestorm flicked on a light in the living room and sat down in one of the chairs, patting his knee. The mechling obediently climbed onto his father's lap.
The red and yellow mech lifted his son under his arms until they were optic to optic. "Did you know that what you were doing was wrong?" A tiny nod. "But you did it anyway?" More timid nodding. "That is a very bad thing to do young mech." Red Alert whimpered slightly as Firestorm lay him over a knee, holding the child's thin legs between his own, and pressing his arm against the red and white back to keep him pinned. Raising his free hand, Firestorm brought it down swiftly on the mechling's aft.
Red Alert gasped at the sting, then bit his lip to stop from crying out. He would just get into more trouble for protesting his punishment. So he lay there, coolant running down his cheeks and energon leaking down his chin.
⃠⃠⃠⃠
Morning Glory looked up from her desk as Firestorm strode past her small office. Getting up from her seat, the purple femme followed her co-worker to his own office.
"You're here early." She noted jovially as the handsome Praxian hurriedly collected a stack of files and case notes from his desk.
"Yes, well, a client's parole hearing was moved up and I need to review these on the way over." Morning Glory stepped aside as Firestorm speed walked out of the room.
"Hope everything goes well!" She called after him as he flashed out of the office. An odd thing to say, she mused as she returned to her own case files. If Firestorm did his job well then a convicted criminal would practically be walking around free by that evening, but such was life. Who was she to judge? She spent half her cases helping sleazebags get half of everything they and their former-bondmate-to-be owned.
⃠⃠⃠⃠
It was late when Morning Glory's personal communication line rung. "Hello?" She wasn't expecting a call from anyone.
"Hey Morning Glory, this is Firestorm. I need to ask a favor of you." The lilac femme smiled at the Praxian's voice.
"How can I help?" She leaned back in her reclining chair.
"The meeting is going over, and I just realized I won't make it back to Iacon until late."
"Sorry to hear about that."
"As am I. Would it be possible for you to go and retrieve Red Alert from school." There was background noise of someone calling a meeting back together.
"Sure thing Storm."
"Thanks. I am sorry for the inconvenience Morning Glory. Tomorrow I'll be sure to sign a form allowing him to come and go on his own before and after school."
"Oh, it's not an inconvenience at all! Primus knows I need the exercise."
⃠⃠⃠⃠
"Father?" Firestorm looked up from his data. Red Alert lay on the floor, diligently working away at his home work.
"Yes?"
The young mech sat up to better speak with his sire. "I've noticed that at school, many of my classmates weally-"
"Really."
"-struggle with following school wules." He paused, waiting for Firestorm to correct him, when he didn't, the mechling considering what it was he was going to say. "Never mind father."
"What is it you want to say." Firestorm set his data file aside, sliding down from his chair, he settled himself down next to his little son. Though he wasn't as small as he'd been when he'd started school a few years back, he still struggled with talking.
"They say things." Red Alert looked away.
"What things?"
"I-I don't want to say them." He looked away, optics down cast.
"What do they say?" Firestorm's words were commanding, demanding an answer.
"Bad things about you. They say you're a weally bad mech." Red Alert gulped. "I don't understand why they say those things. You help good people get out of a place for bad people evewyday; they shouldn't say those things." The young mech twisted around, nervously flicking his stilus around his fingers.
"Okay Red." Firestorm patted his slim shoulder. "We'll talk later about this."
