"Just find out what's going on. Do not engage the Decepticons unless it is absolutely necessary. Please, all of you, be careful. Autobots, roll out," Optimus said. The Autobots before him transformed and rocketed away from the base. Ironhide caught his optics before doing the same.

"Prime," Jazz called out. Optimus stiffened at the title but turned to his third in command. "Take a break. You've been working for breems. Play with your sparklin'."

"I have wo-"

"We have it covered, sir. Jazz is right. You've spent more time on base this deca-cycle than me," Prowl interrupted. Optimus sighed but relented quickly. He walked towards the Med bay, and as he passed Jazz, he received a pat on the arm.

Ratchet didn't notice the sound of a mech approaching over the laughter of Bumblebee. The sparkling was proving to be extremely ticklish. Every time Ratchet got close enough to check Bumblebee's system, the sparkling gave a shriek and began to squirm. And more giggling left Bumblebee when Ratchet jumped out of his chair because Optimus gently touched the medic's shoulder. "Prime!"

"I'm sorry. Normally you hear me coming," Optimus said. Ratchet glared at him.

"Restrain your sparkling. He won't stay still."

"Sparklings don't stay still," Optimus responded. He picked Bumblebee up and took a seat where the sparkling had been laying just before. "But it does help when their sire is holding them." Ratchet harshly smacked the side of his wrench against Optimus' leg.

"It doesn't help anything if their sire feels like being a g-l-i-t-c-h," Ratchet snarled.

With Optimus holding onto the tiny yellow sparkling, the check-up was over quickly. By the end of it, Bumblebee was thrashing in Optimus' arms. The sire held Bumblebee up to his face. He dragged his face across Bumblebee's tummy, blowing lightly as he did so. The sparkling squealed and kicked, laughing his sire brushed sensitive circuits that weren't fully protected seeing as sparklings didn't have very thick metal protecting their protoforms. Bumblebee's pede actually connected with Optimus' face, but the Autobot leader dismissed it instantly. He continued to tickle Bumblebee, looking up and catching Ratchet's optics. A smiled played across his features, and for once, it even reached into his optics.

"I almost can't believe it," Optimus started softly. He looked down at his son once again, pure love radiating from him. "Bumblebee is almost a vorn old already." Ratchet's servo being placed on his knee drew his attention back to the medic.

"Trust me, they grow up fast," Ratchet told the younger. His own love for the red and blue mech before him was clear in his optics. And it wasn't lost on Optimus. "But you get to watch them grow up, make mistakes, and have a chance at raising their own family. But that love for them never fades." With that said, Ratchet stood and joined Optimus in sitting on the berth. "At least you'll know that you raised 'em right."

"I hope. My goal is keeping him alive."

"And the fact that you have to worry about that is sad. Prime, cherish the time you have with Bumblebee now. Your life is the one that you should be worried about. Bee is watched at all times to keep him safe. And by every Autobot on the base. But you're not. You head out into battles, ones that almost never have every single Autobot returning alive. Megatron wants your helm because he has a grudge against you. He hates you, me, and Ironhide."

"I know," Optimus replied. "I'm sorry." The comment, spoken honestly, caught Ratchet off guard.

"For what?"

"Where should I start? I'm sorry that Cybertron went to war with itself in the first place. For being at the head of it with Megatron. For forcing you to stand by and watch as Ironhide and I get hurt. For everything," Optimus responded. Ratchet sighed, giving his Prime a sad smile.

"Like you could've done something about it. Optimus, just be careful. Bumblebee needs you more than anyone else," Ratchet said. Optimus smiled. Bumblebee played with the metal on Optimus' torso. Optimus covered Bumblebee's optics, revealing them quickly. He repeated the action, making Bumblebee laugh when Optimus cooed at him. Ratchet happily left Optimus to play with Bumblebee, despite the fact that he would've been chasing away anyone else.

Optimus spent the next breem (hour) just entertaining Bumblebee. The sparkling tired himself out, falling into recharge against Optimus' chest. The Autobot leader got to his pedes, stretching his back before heading out of the Med bay. Ratchet was sure to want him gone anyways, since the medic didn't like a bot hanging around if they weren't injured.

Optimus headed to his office, only to find the door locked. With a look of confusion, he entered his access code. 'Denied' flashed across the screen beside the door. He looked around. Yes, he was in the right position. No, his access code wasn't wrong. Yes, the door should've opened. No, it didn't. What was going on?

::Prowl, this is Optimus. Why is it that my access code is denied entry to my own office?::

::I'm not sure myself. Try contacting Jazz. I can try to over-ride it from here:: Prowl

::Optimus to Jazz::

::Jazz here::

::Why am I locked out of my office?:: Optimus

::'Cause:: Jazz

::I'm not in the mood to play around. Just allow me access so that I can get some work done, please Jazz:: Optimus

::You're locked out so you can't do work. That was the point. Go home. Prowl an' I can handle the 'Cons for a while:: Jazz

::It's not the Decepticons that I'm worried about:: Optimus

::Hey! What's that supposed ta mean?:: Jazz

::Exactly what you think it does. Can you please just open my door?:: Optimus

::No can do. I set it so it'll open in a couple of breems. Till then, you should just go home:: Jazz

Optimus gave a half growl and turned from his office. He walked towards the barracks, where there was sure to be an open berth that he could take for a little while. Not to sleep, but to lay Bumblebee down on so that he could get some work done. He stopped by Prowl's office to grab a few of the reports that hadn't been delivered to his office to work on.

Upon arriving at the barracks, the few soldiers who were off-duty shot to their pedes. "At ease," Optimus said. They exchanged glances before a young soldier, a femme, approached him.

"Is that your sparkling?" she asked. Optimus nodded. "May I... hold him?" She could sense his reluctance, and was about to tell him that he didn't have to when he knelt down to be closer to her height. Bumblebee stared at her, his optics wide, when his sire very gently transferred him to the femme's arms. "What's his name?"

"Bumblebee," Optimus replied. A smile crossed her face as she gave him back his son. Optimus then straightened, giving her a quick smile before heading to one of the berths he knew was open. He quickly settled Bumblebee beside him as he got to work; determined to get as much done as possible.