Sorry it's taken so long to update, but IRL is being more demanding than usual. Without further ado, let the epilogue begin.
I don't own anything but my many OCs.
Litahatchee is letting me borrow her idea of carrying from her story "Night Fire".
The apartment was well lit and well decorated. The seats had been pushed into a semi circle in the large room, creating a cozy, intimate atmosphere for Streak's presentation. Nightshade greeted each one of her guests with a tight embrace. Optimus had to bend over to hug Nightshade properly, and she could not help but to giggle quietly.
"We must look silly, Optimus," she said, patting his forearm. He only looked a little sheepish as he managed to squeeze himself into one of the seats. Elita perched on the arm of the seat, swatting his errant hand away. Ironhide and Chromia followed after them, taking up the seats next to them. Ironhide made himself right at home on the seat, his arms and legs sprawled out. Chromia gave him a disapproving look, prodding him in the hip. He shuffled over, making space for his mate. Day Lily and Crosswise were not far behind. Day Lily began talking the moment she entered the room.
"What a lovely little apartment, Nightshade. You've decorated it so beautifully," Day Lily said, kissing her daughter's cheek, "I'm certain that you and Ratchet will fill this apartment to the rafters with plenty of grandbabies for me to look after." Chromia may have imagined it, but it seemed that Ratchet had blanched at Day Lily's statement.
"Oh, don't be silly, Ratchet. I was kidding," Day Lily said, embracing him before taking a seat beside Chromia, "hello there, dear. How are you? Crosswise, stop loitering in the door way, I think there's someone behind you - Mirage! Dear! How are you?" Day Lily cut Chromia off in the middle of her response to go and place a kiss on Mirage's cheek. "You look wonderful - Moonracer's been taking good care of you," Day Lily continued, nodding in approval at the state of his shiny coat. Mirage knew better than to open his mouth to respond, so he merely nodded and gave her a gentle smile. Moonracer peered over his shoulder.
"Hello, Day Lily," she said warmly. That was her fist mistake.
"Hello, dear! When are you and Mirage having a sparkling? Are you two trying?" Day Lily asked innocently. Moonracer's face went blank as she struggled to respond.
"No sparklings for us," she said, shaking her head, "definitely no sparklings, we're making sure of that."
"That's a shame, dear, your daughters would be beautiful," Day Lily sighed, imagining a tiny little Moonracer running around with Streak, "but never mind my rambling. Chromia! You look well, how are you holding up? Is Ironhide looking after you?"
Nightshade had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from bursting into laughter. Her mother always did get a little excited at social gatherings. Crosswise had wisely kept his vocalizer off line for the duration of Day Lily's questioning. Once the initial excitement wore down, she would be more tolerable.
"Your femme creator is scary," Chromia whispered seriously. Nightshade smirked.
"That's only the start of it," she responded. Then she recognized the small white and green femme standing just inside of the doorway. She looked shy and out of place. "Epsilon! I thought that you said you wouldn't be able to make it!"
"I was able to convince Beta to take over the nursery for me," she said softly, making her way to the seating area. Nightshade patted a cushion beside Day Lily, who was currently talking to Elita One about the state of affairs with the humans. Day Lily turned to greet the newcomer.
"You are too precious," Day Lily said, turning the Epsilon's face into the light with her hands, "what is your name, darling?"
"Epsilon, ma'am," she said, sounding a bit surprised.
"Ah, none of that silly 'ma'am' stuff. You have a beautiful name. Come, sit beside me and we'll chat," Day Lily said, scooting over on the cushion and patting it. Epsilon nodded timidly and sat down beside Day Lily. Her optics went wide when Day Lily began to talk. And talk. And talk a little bit more. Nightshade snorted quietly.
"Poor Epsilon," Crosswise mouthed at Nightshade. Nightshade nodded and grinned. A minute later, there was a knock on the door. She opened it, and in flounced Firestar. She looked quite pleased with herself. Wheeljack stumbled into the room a breem later, looking winded.
"Still can't catch her, can you?" Nightshade sighed, shaking her head. Wheeljack shook his head as he clutched at his intake fans. The femme was fast. She had promised him a sparkling once he could chase her down and beat her in a fair fight, but that wasn't going to happen, not for a long while. Prowl and Jazz followed a minute later. Prowl was shaking his head at Wheeljack's failed attempts to hunt down Firestar, and Jazz was making suggestions to catch her. They were greeted by Ratchet. He touched their shoulders in a brotherly gesture. He and Jazz had served together for many vorns, and though he'd known Prowl for a scant hundred vorns, they had become good friends in that short span of time. There was another soft knock at the door. Red Alert was admitted only a few moments later.
"Red," Ratchet said, by way of greeting. He looked a little lost without Inferno. The fire engine had declined to join them. He didn't know Nightshade or Ratchet very well, and his presence at Streak's presentation would be awkward and forced. He didn't want to ruin the atmosphere just because he was Red Alert's mate. Nightshade had begged him to reconsider, but Inferno would have none of it. All he asked for was a picture of the little one and a promise to meet him later.
"Ratchet," Red Alert responded, smiling, "I rerouted all of the security measure to Barricade, just like you suggested."
"Good mech," Ratchet said, clapping him on the shoulder, "now come on, Nightshade wants to show Streak off to everyone." Red Alert smiled. The little one had made so much progress since his birth. He had been a very frail little sparkling, barely able to power his own optics without assistance from Nightshade. Now the little one could not hold still - he was even trying to crawl. Sparklings usually didn't try to crawl until the end of their thirtieth orn, so to see the little one wriggling on his stomach was a pleasant surprise.
"Thank you for joining us," she said, smiling shyly at the femmes in the group, "it's an honor to have you here. We have invited you here tonight for a special reason." Chromia smiled at Elita when she fidgeted impatiently. Nightshade excused herself and retreated to the privacy of the nursery to remove Streak from her hold. The little mech was awake instantly. He chirped up at her curiously, his little fingers splaying across her chest plates. He wanted back into the warm, safe space.
"You are going to meet all of our friends," Nightshade said, tickling him in the abdomen with one finger. He squeaked happily at her loving attention. Ratchet peered into the nursery, kissing Streak's forehead as she drew closer. The sparkling babbled at the attention from his father, grabbing Ratchet's nasal plate before the mech could pull away. Streak patted Ratchet's cheek before releasing him. Ratchet led the way back into the living room. He smirked when Chromia and Elita impatiently tried to crane their necks to peer around him. Nightshade snickered quietly as she peered through the gap between his arm and his chest.
"Please allow us the honor of presenting to you our son, Light Streak," Ratchet said quietly, stepping to one side. Nightshade stepped forward, cradling Streak in her arms. The little mech gurgled quietly, clearly not noticing anyone but his mother.
Streak froze at the noise and peered around. There were lots of sparks like his mother's, and he wanted to play with them all. But there were also those large beings scattered around. Large beings that reminded him of the mean one that had taken him from his mother. He was slightly frightened, but he knew his poppa was nearby. Poppa wouldn't let anyone take him from his mother.
"Mothers first," Ratchet said teasingly, smiling at Day Lily. Day Lily approached slowly.
"Hello there, sweetie," Day Lily cooed, "my, what a handsome little sparkling you are!" Streak blinked up at her, waving his hand at her in an attempt to make physical contact with the pretty femme. Day Lily tenderly cradled his hand in her curled fingers.
"Yes, doesn't her spark feel familiar, Streak? That's my mother you're looking at," Nightshade said as Streak reached to her through their bond. He was a little confused, but he definitely liked Day Lily. Nightshade smiled when she felt Streak's approval. Perhaps he wasn't going to be so cantankerous with the other femmes.
"My dear, you may call me grandmother. Yes, I think I like the sound of that," Day Lily said dreamily, her optics wistful, "now, be a good mech, sweetie." Streak warbled as Day Lily disappeared from his line of sight. He reached after her. No…he liked her. He wanted her.
Nightshade shushed him gently.
"You've got plenty of femmes to meet," Nightshade said, "Elita? Chromia?" The femmes rose and approached slowly. Streak recognized Chromia and whirred at her. This femme had held him once long before. He couldn't remember anything but her spark. He touched her hand, shyly pulling away when she smiled down at him.
"This is Auntie Chromia," Nightshade said seriously, "she's held you before. So, of course you remember her. And this is your Auntie Elita. She's my boss, so be nice to her." Elita rolled her optics at Nightshade's statement, but leaned down to get a better look at Streak. Streak returned her curious stare before trilling happily. He liked this femme very much. She was very, very strong, but he could sense that she liked sparklings.
"I've said this before, Streak, but you are too cute to have Ratchet for a sire," Chromia crooned, making the little mech whistle happily. He didn't know what she was saying, but her voice was very pretty. Elita snickered quietly at Ratchet's glower.
"Hello, Light Streak. It's an honor and a pleasure to meet you, my dear," Elita said solemnly, bowing her head slightly at him. Streak's optics bugged out as his fuel tank began to rumble quietly. He whimpered, wriggling in discomfort. Nightshade immediately began patting his back.
"Shh, sweetie, mommy's here," she said, glancing over at Day Lily for help. Streak let out another whimper, and then suddenly, he went quiet. They stared at him. He scrunched his nasal plate up and wriggled his bottom. Then his tiny little engine backfired, startling the mechs and femmes in the room. He giggled at the startled expression on Elita's face. The strong femme was so funny looking!
"Streak, that was very rude," Nightshade said, waving her hand to clear the fumes. She looked a little embarrassed, and she spoke again, "I'm sorry, Elita. Had I known that he was going to pick this moment to clear his fuel tank, I would have waited." Elita waved the apology away dismissively. Little Streak couldn't help it, and he didn't know their social decorum.
Yet.
"Phew, that definitely is your son, Ratchet," Elita said, craning her head to avoid the smell. Ratchet puffed up proudly, ignoring Nightshade's mild glare.
"That's my little boy," Ratchet said, pouring his pride into their bond. Streak whistled and clapped his hands. That was fun!
"Epsilon? Moonracer?" Nightshade asked, ignoring the femmes' exaggerated gagging. Chromia merely shook her head and continued to stroke Streak's head. He purred happily, leaning into the loving touch and nuzzling Chromia's wrist. Epsilon and Moonracer stood up and joined the other femmes huddled around Streak.
"This is Moonracer. She helped deliver you," Nightshade said. Moonracer looked a little awkward as she reached out and touched Streak's arm. He dismissed her after indulging in a moment of her attention. He knew that the pretty aqua femme wasn't interested in sparklings, and instead of wasting his time trying to play with her, he knew he was better off seeking attention from the younger femme.
"This is Epsilon. She'll be helping me take care of you once you're upgraded into your youngling frame," Nightshade said. The green-and-white femme merely nodded, hesitantly touching his foot. He whistled shrilly in surprise and pulled his foot away. Nightshade bounced him in her arms gently.
"Oh, I'm sorry, little one. Did I hurt him?" Epsilon asked worriedly, her azure optics wide with concern.
"No, he was just surprised," Nightshade said. Epsilon nodded. Her optics widened when she felt the tug at her spark. She shifted uncomfortably. The tugging grew more pronounced. She pushed it away, and to her eternal surprise, Streak began to mewl, his face plates screwed up in anticipation of a mighty tantrum. On a whim, she reached back to him, and he settled down almost instantaneously.
"Does he reach to all of the femmes?" Epsilon asked, "it felt like something was pulling at my spark." Chromia nodded, smiling fondly down at the attention-seeking sparkling. He was more openly affectionate with femmes than any other sparkling that she had ever seen.
"He wants attention," she said after a moment of interacting with him through their weak connection. He lost interest quickly after that when he realized that there were other femmes to share his spark with.
"Not like he doesn't get enough of that," Nightshade muttered quietly. Ratchet laughed, breaking the silence in the room. Streak glanced around when he heard Ratchet's voice. He chirped. Where was poppa?
"Now, let's see if you're ready to meet our mechs," Nightshade said seriously, filling her bond with him with reassurance. Day Lily and Chromia remained firmly attached to Nightshade's side as the other femmes retreated back to their seats. Ratchet stood just behind Nightshade, reassuring Streak in the same manner that she was. Streak, with his confidence bolstered by the presence of both of his creators, looked around the room curiously. He was confused. Why couldn't he share his spark with the others?
"Daddy? Would you like to meet your grandson?" Nightshade asked. Crosswise nodded, too choked up to speak. He slowly walked to Nightshade. He peered down at Streak. Streak giggled when Crosswise used one finger to tenderly touch Streak's hand. The little mech wrapped his hands around Crosswise's finger tightly, babbling to himself as he examined his grandfather's hand. Crosswise made an odd noise, almost like a hiccup.
"He's beautiful, Nightshade," Crosswise said gruffly, "he's going to take after you, Ratchet. That, I can tell you." Ratchet blinked.
"I seriously hope not," Ratchet said honestly, "the last thing we need is miniature me."
Nightshade giggled. Before Streak had been born, Ratchet had lain on the berth beside her abdomen and given the spark she carried a stern talking-to. Streak was not to inherit his obsessive behavior, his aim, or his (in)famous charm. The only thing Streak could inherit from him was his love for medicine and science, and that was it. He had to inherit Nightshade's relatively sweet disposition.
Day Lily giggled quietly.
"Ratchet, if it wasn't for the fact that you have red paint and a black chevron, I would swear that you were your father," Day Lily said softly, "you're his mirror in every way. Streak will one day be the mech that you are today, Ratchet."
Ratchet looked a little uncomfortable thinking that his sparkling was going to be a fully grown mech one day.
"No, I refuse to believe it - not my little Streak, he'll be a good, sweet, innocent little sparkling for the rest of his life. Won't you, Streak?" Ratchet asked, wrapping his arm around Nightshade and peering down at Streak. The little one twittered happily, kicking his feet up into the air. Streak loved the attention from his creators! It made his spark so warm and happy.
"See? He's promised," Ratchet said. Crosswise only laughed.
"He'll have a tutor before you know it," Crosswise said quietly, glancing over at Nightshade meaningfully. It seemed like only yesterday that the femme had been sparked. Nightshade smiled back up at him, knowing the reason behind his sudden silence. Now that she thought about it, her life had changed in the blink of an optic.
"Alright. Ironhide, Prime. C'mere," Ratchet said, "but slowly!" Prime stepped forward while Ironhide hung out of the way. Ironhide did not like small noisy things. Optimus was genuinely curious about the sparkling. He had only seen a dozen or so in his lifetime. Streak's optics went wide as he gazed up at the mountain towering over him. He trilled shrilly. This mech was gigantic! Optimus stared down at Streak. By Primus, the sparkling was tiny!
They stared at one another for a few long astroseconds, gauging one another.
Optimus reached one finger out at Elita's gentle urging. When Streak reached for him, Optimus jerked back so quickly that he elbowed Ironhide. Ironhide grunted, but did not retaliate. Streak chirped, a little less than amused at the Giant's unfulfilled promise of attention. At Nightshade's soft prompt, Optimus reached out again. He prodded Streak in the leg and pulled away quickly. Streak stared up at Optimus blankly for a moment before glancing over at Ironhide. He squeaked, calling for attention. This mech looked interesting.
"Ironhide? Streak wants to see you," Nightshade said quietly. Ironhide shook his head.
"I'm fine where I'm at," Ironhide rumbled out quietly. Streak chirped again, reaching his hands up to Ironhide. This mech reminded him of his poppa. He radiated the same sense of safety. He had the same deep, comforting voice, even if he was a bit growly.
"I think he wants Ironhide to hold him," Elita said excitedly. Ironhide choked as Prime pushed him forward. He dug his heels into the ground, struggling to get away.
"N-no I don't think this is a good idea - "
"Do it or he'll start crying," Ratchet warned quietly, "and if he starts crying..."
"Hold your hand out, Ironhide," Nightshade said. Prime twisted Ironhide's arm, forcing him to hold his hand out. Nightshade moved quickly, placing Streak's bottom into the palm of Ironhide's massive hand. Once Streak was settled into his trembling hand, Ironhide went as still as a statue. Nightshade continued.
"Very well, now wrap your other hand around his back and shoulders. Just like that, help him balance - no, not quite that far up. Good, now hold him against your chest - mind the pointy bits, Streak doesn't like that." Nightshade adjusted the tiny sparkling marginally.
"There we go," Nightshade said. As she stepped back, she realized that it was the first time she had ever seen a look of true fear on Ironhide's face. He looked positively terrified to have Streak curled up against him.
"He likes you, Ironhide," Ratchet said softly, clapping his friend on the shoulder. Ironhide remained stock still, his optics wide. After a few moments of having the tiny blot of warmth curled up against him, Ironhide began to relax. He spoke gently.
"He is adorable, even if he's only a little scrap of metal," Ironhide said fondly, glancing down the now-drooling sparkling. After a moment, Streak pushed against Ironhide's chest. He squeaked. He wanted to be held by someone else now. This mech was nice, but he was smelled funny. Nightshade reached for Streak.
"It's time for you to meet everyone else," Nightshade cooed, "you're such a brave little sparkling, I'd be terrified if Ironhide picked me up like he did you. I'm afraid that you've inherited the wrong traits, Streak. I'm afraid of heights, and you're not."
Ironhide glared down at her, but it softened when he saw that Streak was making faces up at his mother. Jazz and Prowl were next, but Prowl didn't like it when Streak spat up a glob of unprocessed energon onto his hand. He stayed away while Jazz stepped forward.
"Hey there, little man," Jazz said, offering the tip of one finger to the sparkling, "nice ta finally meet you." Streak grabbed Jazz's finger and squeaked. He continued making noises, much to the amusement of the adults around him.
"Are you behaving for your mother?" Jazz asked, a small smile creeping across his face. Streak whirred in response. For a moment, Nightshade could have sworn that Streak sounded apologetic.
"A real mech always cherishes and protects the femmes in his life, especially the one who gave him life. When you get older, you'll understand," Jazz said wisely. Streak responded with a quiet chattering noise.
Ratchet smiled down at them both. He would raise Streak to be a proper gentlemech. His beliefs may have been considered archaic and even chauvinistic, but Ratchet wouldn't hesitate to put himself in harm's way to protect a femme, even if she was as tough as Chromia.
"So we're both on the same page now, yes?" Jazz asked, nodding his head slightly. Streak mirrored Jazz's nod. The little mech had no idea what was going on, but to the others, it looked like they had carried on a conversation.
"You would be a wonderful father," Nightshade said softly. Jazz gave her a charming smile.
"Thank you, Nightshade," he said, bowing his head. He gave Streak one last look.
"Behave, little man, and do what your mother says!" he said. He took Prowl's hand and they sat down with the others. Red Alert peered over Nightshade's arm. Streak blinked up at the mech. He had the same funny covering over his optics, just like Jazz. Streak clapped his hands when Red Alert retracted it. Streak watched attentively. He wanted for the mech to do the funny thing with his optics again.
"This is Red Alert," Nightshade said quietly, her vocal processor choking up slightly, "if it was not for him, neither one of us would be here." Ratchet squeezed her shoulder gently. Red Alert only looked somber.
"Would you like to hold him, Red?" Ratchet asked softly.
"You don't mind?" Red asked. Nightshade shook her head. Red Alert carefully picked Streak up, expertly nestling him in the crook of his arm. If they didn't know that his tertiary function was temporary medic, they would have sworn that Red Alert had had dozens of his own sparklings. He handled the tiny sparkling expertly, not once letting his unease or discomfort show.
Streak whimpered quietly, not understanding why he was being held by someone he did not know. He began to wriggle and reach for Nightshade. His mother didn't reach back for him. He began to panic, thinking that he was being taken from Nightshade again, but once his creators gave him that same reassuring sensation, he began to calm back down. Curiosity replaced the fear in his little spark.
"There, there, Streak," Red Alert murmured quietly, "it's alright. I won't hurt you. No one on this base would harm you, little one." Streak quieted down and stared up at Red Alert, enraptured with his smooth, deep voice.
"You see? Everyone here will take good care of you," Red continued quietly. Streak yawned quietly, shuttering his optics as he buried his face into Red Alert's chest plates. Within minutes, the little one was asleep. With a radiant smile, Red Alert offered Streak back to Nightshade.
"Here we go," Red Alert said quietly, "he probably needs a good recharge because of all the activity." Nightshade nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Her mood swings had only intensified since Streak's birth, and the sight of Red Alert cradling the tiny bundle to his chest made her want to start crying. She hurried away. Once she was in the privacy of her nursery, she carefully righted Streak and gently put him into her carrying chamber. The little mech didn't budge as she shut her chest plates. She checked his vitals as she walked back out of the door. He was deep in recharge, and didn't require much fuel. Nightshade carefully stroked the top of Streak's head, giving him one last fond smile as she exited the room.
She and Ratchet finally sat down with their guests, and for the first time in a very long time, Nightshade allowed herself to relax. She leaned against Ratchet. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close to him. Nightshade placed a small kiss on his chest before shuttering her optics. If someone had told her one hundred vorns ago that her life would have changed the way it had, she wouldn't have believed them. She had fallen in love, had bonded, and had, had a sparkling of her own, all in the relatively infinitesimal time frame of sixteen stellar cycles. Nightshade shuttered her optics, leaning into Ratchet's warm embrace. She felt his arm tighten around her marginally as he leaned back into the couch.
Their lives may have settled into a comfortable but slightly predictable rhythm, but Nightshade knew it was only the beginning.
Wow! WID is finally over. I have no idea what to say now!
I suppose I'll start off with a thank you, then. I want to thank the following people for simply being here, and for being the main reason why I even continued this story:
Litahatchee (for being the most wonderful person to bounce ideas with, and for being so generous as to let me borrow her idea of "carrying", and also, for being the definition of awesome ),
Okami-Chan (for also being generous – the idea of dancers and dolls belong entirely to her, and for granting me permission to draw a dancer the way she wrote about…though I haven't gotten around to it yet!),
P.A.W.07 (for being generous as well, and for letting me borrow her concept of femme-in-hiding),
Vermilionbird (just for being Vermilionbird, and for reading my…endeavors into the field of fictional romance ;) Your feedback is simply amazing!),
Plenoptic ( for being such a wonderful, wonderful reader and for making me laugh with every email and review. Without you, I'd definitely be a more boring person!),
MelanieDraidnt24 (over on DeviantArt. Girl, I've spent more time on AIM with you than anyone else, and I can't begin to thank you for being my friend!),
And finally,
Xanaplayer (for offering many words of encouragement and for being an awesome friend as well).
Thank you to everyone else!
See y'all in the sequel. :)