A/N: There is going to be one more chapter where Harmony is sparkling age after this. It's time for her to be a youngling! Now this one is another more serious one. You all know I don't own Transformers.

BTW: The processor 'owie' Harmony talks about? It's not the same one as in last chapter. It's a different one.

Family is forever – Chapter 16 – Tantrum

"Daddy?"

"Yes Harmony?"

"When's Papa gonna come home? You said he'd be home when you got better from your proc…proce…head owie," Harmony tried to articulate, but didn't quite manage it. Prowl smiled indulgently at his daughter and pronounced the word for her again, smiling wider as Harmony finally pronounced 'processor' correctly.

"I know, dearspark, but Papa's on a long mission this time. He'll be home soon. When I'm done my work, we can go play poker," Prowl suggested.

The white femmeling pouted and crossed her arms, but she warbled and said mournfully, "Okay."

The next day

"Harmony?" the tactician asked, knocking lightly on his daughter's door. He frowned. His sparkling was usually up around the same time he was and bouncing on his and Jazz's berth to squeal at them a good morning. It was usually their routine.

When no response was given, Prowl got a bit worried. Why wasn't she answering?

Opening the door and poking his helm in, he tried again. "Harmony?" he called. There was relief in him when he saw a little bundle huddled under the soft quilt, a white helm with sensory horns facing towards the wall. Coming forward, Prowl sat on the edge of the small berth, concerned at the complete lack of response. Reaching over and stroking the winglets through the fabric of the quilt, he asked softly, "Dearspark, can you please answer me? What's wrong?"

"Want Papa," came the little muffled response.

Prowl sighed heavily. The few comms from his bondmate showed that he might not be home for another few days, being away for a month and a week already. Harmony had missed him for that entire time.

"He'll be home when he can. We have to begin the day regardless. We must be productive," the mech replied evenly.

"Don't wanna!"

"Harmony…" Prowl said warningly, but firmly.

"Don't wanna move until Papa come home!" the white sparkling grumped stubbornly, burying deeper into her blankets so that only the tips of her sensory horns were visible. When Prowl nudged her, something hit out at him. Whether it was a hand or foot, he didn't know. Frowning again, Prowl pulled the blanket off, revealing Harmony still facing away from him, curling in on herself. He sighed again. He missed Jazz too. Reaching through the sparker/creation bond, he sent her waves of calm, coaxing her to turn and look at him.

It worked, and Harmony uncurled, but she was pouting and she had her visor down. "Miss Papa. Want snuggles from Papa," she whined, patting her chestplates.

Prowl understood. Not feeling Jazz's spark resonance was a hard thing for him too, but it didn't stop him from having a stiff upper lipplate and doing his work. It may seem harsh, but Harmony needed to not dwell on it. If she did, she would just miss her carrier more. Picking up the little bundle of white and holding her to his chestplate, the SIC murmured, "He loves you still, dear one. Even if he can't be here to hug you."

"Mmm…don't like it," muttered the little femme.

"Me either. But I have to work on some new plans, and Uncle Blue's going to be looking after you today. He's going to watch movies before taking you outside for a run," Prowl informed, picking Harmony up and setting her on her feet, letting her go ahead of him. Her winglets drooped, but at least she was out of bed. That much was a victory.

He was halfway through his daily datapads when a frantic comm. link came through.

:: Prowl here.::

::Prowl, it's Bluestreak. You better get here, Harmony's going crazy!::

The tactician's stare at the datapad in front of him broke off as he heard a snippet of a frustrated wail through the comm. link. ::I'll be right there:: he replied, abandoning his work and locking the office, striding briskly to the rec-room. As soon as the doors of the rec-room opened, the sound of sparkling wailing hit him full on. Immediately seeing Bluestreak and Bumblebee trying to cheer his sparkling up with finger puppets, Prowl strode over.

As he approached, his spark went out to his sparkling who was still crying and wailing, sniffling in between her cries. Bluestreak looked up, sighing in relief.

"We tried to watch that second movie about the cat who get's adopted by all of these stray dogs in New York, but Harmony didn't want to watch it and she didn't want to play and she started screaming for Jazz," blurted the younger Praxian as Prowl bent down and picked up his wailing creation. The black and white nodded and said firmly to his sparkling, "Harmony, calm down. We'll sort things out."

"Want Papa," she whimpered pitifully, not returning the embrace stubbornly. Her Father's EM field was comforting, but it was not the one she wanted.

"Harmony, he's doing important things. We both told you this," reasoned Prowl, although he knew that reasoning and logic were inconsequential to a sparkling. His sparkling squirmed in his hold, complaining, "Want Papa!"

"Harmony, this argument will not bring Jazz back faster," reprimanded Prowl firmly, still being as patient as possible. Sparkling anger came through his bond with the white sparkling . She was so very upset. He felt like a mini storm was building up in that little white body. Little did he know that he was quite right.

The little white sparkling stilled for a moment, quiet, before she opened her mouth and screamed, "I WANT PAPA! PAPAAAAAAAA!"

Prowl groaned as Harmony's scream went high pitched at the end, and he wrestled with his thrashing and screaming sparkling, tears springing afresh, pinning her securely to his body so she wouldn't fall and ordering, "Harmony! Cease!"

Harmony kept sobbing but she stopped screaming, knowing that when her Father used that tone on naughty bots that they got thrown in the brig.

The tactician hated to reprimand his sparkling, but knew that it was a way of teaching her that temper tantrums, however justified, were not acceptable. "Harmony, because you caused a ruckus, I have no choice but to ban you from all toys but your Sun-Sun for two days. I told you that Jazz will be home when he can be home. I'm sorry that he's away, but I can't change it, Harmony," Prowl said sternly, but rubbing the little winglets on his daughters back to calm her down. He knew that sparklings were sensitive at about this age before they became younglings – Jazz's absence as the carrier had exacerbated it.

Harmony sniffled and curled up, clinging to her Father's forearms. "Want recharge, Daddy."

When she called him 'daddy' it always made his spark melt. "Okay. We'll go back to my office and you'll sleep on my lap while I do my work. Later, we'll do snuggles. Is this acceptable?"

The white sparkling nodded, clinging to her sparker's chestplates even more and slowly dropping off from the energy expenditure on screaming.

Letting his vents blow out air in relief, Prowl glanced over the rec-room with a nod, grateful for the respect they showed in not intruding or snickering, walking back out of the room. He only hoped that Jazz would be home soon. He would be glad for the respite in the melancholy in their sparkling.

That night while most bots were deep in recharge, Jazz tiredly entered his quarters, heading directly to his berthroom. He had missed his Prowler. Opening the door, he stopped and smiled tenderly at the adorable scene in front of him. His bondmate was on his side, doorwings fluttering occasionally in his recharge, and in his arms was their sparkling, curled up with her favourite toy, her Sun-Sun. Chuckling softly, mindful of not waking any of his family, Jazz slid into the berth and snuggled as close as he could to Harmony and Prowl.

"…Jazz," came the sleepy mutter as dim blue optics cycled on.

"Rest babe. Ya look exhausted."

"So do you," replied Prowl, moving one arm to link a hand with his lover's.

"Yeah well, that's a discussion for th' mornin'. Right now Ah wanna just cuddle. How was she?" the saboteur asked, leaning over to peck the golden centrepiece of Prowl's chevron. The doorwinged mech chuckled tiredly and murmured, "Missed you like Pit. I did too, but she was more…verbal about it." He pushed the memories of what had happened that day through their bond, and Jazz hummed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the top of the sparklings forehead.

Like she had felt his EM field, Harmony shifted, a little hand coming out and latching on to Jazz's chestplates, making a little purring sound and settling.

"Aw, she's gorgeous. She's gonna be so happy in the mornin'," remarked Jazz.

"Just as long as I sleep in," muttered Prowl, drifting back into recharge.

With a smirk, the visored mech replied, "Of course sweetspark, of course."

A/N: I had to throw that last part in there. I'm in a fluff writing mood.

Please review darlings!