Chapter 3

-0-Around the town

Prowl walked into Med Bay, a datapad in his servo and a question in his mind. Three new mechs had arrived the night before and an even dozen were on their way today. More were sending messages ahead and the excitement in the ranks was increasing as Autobots long lost to the wind were flying this way in their transitional formats. He paused to look around, his door wings fluttering as he considered a number of tasks all at the same time. Ratchet was bent over a computer terminal researching something that he could only guess. "Ratchet?" he asked, his cultured educated tenor soft and low.

Ratchet looked up with surprise, then moved quickly to stand between Prowl and the screen. "Prowl. What can I do for you?" A big smile formed on his face, a big insincere appearing smile.

Prowl considered the odd brief interaction but said nothing. Sometimes the medic was beyond his processor. "I'd like to know when you'll have the medical reports on our newcomers ready and also, I'd like to know what you might need, if anything, for the ones on their way?"

Ratchet considered that then smiled. "I think we're up to it unless they come dismantled and shipped by UPS."

A brief moment passed as Prowl accessed the proper interpretations, then a small smile formed on his handsome face. "Indeed," he said softly. "Thank you, Ratchet." With that he turned to go, then paused again. "I will expect the reports."

"You will have them, Prowler," Ratchet said continuing to smile as Prowl walked out the door. As soon as he was gone so was Ratchet's smile. Then he turned back and began his researching once again.

-0-On a plane back to Diego Garcia from the operational field overseas, night time the next day

Ironhide awoke from recharge, the turbulence disturbing not only his rest but that of the other Autobots in the plane.

:Bluestreak, are you awake?: Sunstreaker's voice whispered over their internal link stirring a number of others who were hanging on the cusp of recharging.

:Sunny?: the gunner whispered. :Everyone is recharging:

:Everyone was: Mirage's refined tones reached everyone in the group as the organics sat dozing obliviously nearby.

:You sound aggravated, Mirage: Sideswipe said. :I figured you'd have all the rest you wanted out in space. Don't tell me you're losing your step:

An elegant snort was all he deigned for response and as they flew onward Mirage began to ask questions. :The organics ... they fight rather well:

:I think they do. What do you think, Sunny?: Blue asked, his cheerful youthful voice a balm to everyone's audials.

:I don't care for them. Ask Sideswipe. They get in my way:

:I like them. Epps is a good warrior. He's got guts: Sideswipe began.

The conversation continued as Ironhide listened with half an audial. He found himself concentrating on his bond link to Ratchet, on the secretive actions and pointed, even heated gazes that Ratchet had been giving him since his little prank. On the firing range and on the field, the soldiers were just as dedicated and respectful to him now. It made that moment seem a lapse. But then he was aware that they wouldn't be so bold as to challenge him or insult his family to his face. He would have to have another conversation with the soldiers.

They weren't humans, his people.

Their actions, beliefs, relationships or not, actions and mores were theirs honed over a million, million years of culture, experience, travel, thought and necessity. They were made this way on another planet in another solar system under different circumstances of evolution. They were who they were and they weren't humans. Nothing they did was for anyone but themselves and the sooner humans learned that they weren't the end all and be all of species, the better it would be for everyone. It was the main reason they kept their personal lives and how they lived and thought mostly to themselves.

He replayed the conversation with Optimus again and again, the expression on his face and his remarks about babies nervous making. Ratchet had also taken up the moment and was gyrating off into some sort of direction he couldn't figure out, probably making traps in his lab just for Ironhide. The prank was brilliant but it was sparking off in a lot of directions he didn't count on.

Sparking.

Poor choice of words, Ironhide, he said to himself. The odd feeling of sneaky subversion that filtered through their bond, a bond that he'd noticed was tamped down at different times of the orbital cycle he might add was making him nervous. Ratchet was up to something and he dreaded what it might mean to their easy-going unencumbered lifestyle.

The transport continued onward drawing them closer to Diego Garcia and the comforts and eccentricities of home.

-0-That night, Diego Garcia, British Indian Ocean

They arrived just as the sun was setting on the horizon, the shimmering sea a wonderful utterly alien sight to the Transformers. An ocean of water that covered so much of the world, that was brand new and many of them spent time looking at and wandering around its sparkling edges. There were seas on Cybertron ... Mithril, Rust and Mercury but nothing of this size and grandeur. Ironhide drove off the plane, the muggy warmth of the night welcomed after the cold snowy taiga of Russia. He moved slowly forward transforming at the door of the hangar that led to their personal spaces.

Nodding goodnight to one and all, he trudged sleepily down the broad corridor that led into the underground installation. His quarters, a shared personal space with Ratchet was at the end of the two lane road that once was occupied with delivery trucks bringing supplies to the various great underground rooms and hangars that held stores for this outpost. He found his door and gathered himself, opening their bonding link just a fraction to gauge what was on Ratchet's processor. Recharge reached him so he relaxed, punching in his code to open the door.

It was dark but he could see Ratchet's form in the dimness reclining on the berth. Carefully removing his cannons and other pieces and parts of his personal arsenal he walked over and peered down. Ratchet was offline, his face gentle and youthful in repose. Ironhide smiled, the same flutter rising in his spark as it did the first time he decided they were 'meant for each other'.

-Way the frag long ago

"You've got to be kidding," Ratchet said as he labored deep in the workings of Ironhide's knee assembly.

"Nope," Ironhide said biting on his lower lip as Ratchet tightened the last nut into place. The medic straightened, regarding Ironhide with a level appraising gaze. He grinned. "I'll tell you what, Ironhide," he began. "If you pass inspection in the sack then you have a deal."

Ironhide, no newcomer to the ball, blinked from the brazen calculation of the offer. Then he grinned. "Sold."

That night had been a barn burner and they'd clenched the deal, a deal that would span the lifetime of some stars and would land them here on an alien world with alien hosts fighting the same old slag as ever.

He smiled and with as much effort to be careful and quiet as a mech his size could muster, Ironhide lay down on his side of the heavily steel reinforced berth. He lay still, waiting on his side for a moment. Then as if programmed, Ratchet turned on his side and spooned directly behind him. /...You're putty in my hands.../ Ironhide thought to himself with a sigh of massive contentment.

Ratchet awake and aware that Ironhide had come back smiled slightly. "Hey, bad boy. I see you made it."

Ironhide started a moment, then relaxed. "We all did. No injuries."

"I know. I'm still here aren't I," Ratchet murmured as his servos stroked Ironhide's arm. They traced circles in his armor sliding down the brawny slope of his shoulder, then slid along his waist to rest on his hip.

Ironhide lying without a movement considered this opening gambit. It seemed that Ratchet was goading him into doing something he was too tired for once to attempt. "You lost something, Ratchet?"

Ratchet's smile dimmed a moment as he considered the odd question. "What?"

"Your servo. I was wondering what you were looking for," Ironhide said as a small smile quirked on his face.

A tight grip on his hip elicited the correct amount of painful yelping from Ironhide as Ratchet pinched the wiring underneath the armor plating on Ironhide's hip. "You sure know how to ruin the mood."

"I don't have a mood, Ratchet. I'm hardly awake. The younglings talked on the plane ride all the way back. It's hard to threaten someone when you're tied down under a net."

"I don't like those travel arrangements."

"You and me both," Ironhide said grasping Ratchet's servo, pulling it and his arm more tightly around himself. Ratchet, thwarted, snuggled against Ironhide as he schemed. "Ironhide?"

"What?" he asked simulating fatigue in his voice.

"I was wondering "

The words hung in the air.

"Ironhide?"

"What?" he answered again, smiling in spite of himself.

"I was thinking about what you said to the soldiers, what we talked about."

It was silent a moment. Ratchet peered up and over Ironhide's broad frame. He could see Ironhide's optics and they were offline. He lay back wondering if the big black mech was pulling his leg. Then he smiled. What a stupid expression he thought even as he quelled the urge to pull Ironhide's leg off and club him with it. He snuggled closer and closed his optics redrawing his plans for victory even as recharge claimed him again.

-0-Ops Center, Autobot Barracks around the same time

Prowl glanced up as Optimus Prime entered the command deck smiling back at him with weary optics. The huge mech took a seat and stretched. "Welcome back, sir," Prowl said.

"Thank you, Prowl," he replied. "Anything happening that can't wait until tomorrow?"

"No. We have an ETA for the next ten bots coming in tomorrow at 1400 hours our time."

"Good," Optimus said with a smile. "What a change. More Autobots in than we can almost use."

Prowl chuckled softly. "True. Such a dilemma."

He grinned as he admired the clean crisp beauty of his sub-commander. "Well, if that is all, I will go recharge."

"Actually," Prowl began as the small nagging moment with Ratchet crept back upon him once more. "Ratchet."

Prime considered that remark. "Acting oddly, giving Ironhide strange looks especially when he is not looking."

Prowl nodded. "Yes. It's odd. I know you're close to Ironhide and I wondered unless it's a personal matter if you thought something was wrong between them."

"I hope not," Prime said worried. "I am not aware of any difficulties but you know those two. They would never tell each other let alone anyone else."

"Do you think they might need an intervention, someone to go speak with them that might help them through whatever difficulty they might be facing?"

"Perhaps," Prime considered. "Let me think about it and watch them for a few days. If nothing comes up on radar we may have some relaxation coming."

"Most overdue, sir. I would suggest that you take advantage of that, too. I can handle some of the more mundane meetings and record others," Prowl said, his no nonsense expression falling into place.

Prime grinned as he rose. No Nonsense Prowl was one of his favorites. Unless he was Angry Prowl then stay away from tables. "Comm me if you need me. I am going to recharge."

"I will," Prowl said rising, too. "Good night, sir."

"Good night, Prowl," Prime said with a warm smile. He turned away, feeling the mech's gaze upon him and when he reached the door he looked back. Prowl was back to work once more making the plates spin. You may suggest whatever you wish, Prowler, Optimus thought as he finally tore himself away to walk to his quarters to recharge.