Chapter 5
-0-On the line
Ironhide blew up the last possibly definable item on the firing range he could justify. Powering down his weapons, he listened to the general announcement that front liners were given three stellar cycles off from duty pending Decepticon activity. He thought a moment and vented, his systems revving for a moment. He considered three days with Ratchet and nothing to divert either of them from their macabre dance of doom. Turning to go back, grunting at the greeting from a number of organics who called out to him, he trudged depressed and wary toward the Autobot hangars.
Bobby Epps directing the new arrivals to N.E.S.T on the firing range grinned. The goggle-eyed newbies stood around him as they watched the ominous figure of the renowned Ironhide walk past them, all twenty-five feet of his black menacing masculinity reflected on the awed respect on their faces. He was a formidable sight and when he passed far enough away they grouped around their sergeant.
"Whoa." A lieutenant gulped. "Look at the mayhem."
They all noted the profusion of blast holes, scorched marks and broken bits and pieces of stuff now no longer identifiable laying here and there.
"Does he do that a lot?" a corporal asked.
Epps nodded. "He keeps his weapons in shape. He's a pro."
"Is he really as dangerous as he looks?" the lieutenant asked, his expression grave.
Epps considered his words then nodded. "They all are to the Decepticons but they're on our side. These guys are warriors and they've been at this longer than we've been a species. They're true blue, dependable and you don't have to be afraid of them. You just have to give them the respect they've earned and deserve." He paused to look at Ironhide's retreating figure. "Lennox loves him like a brother and so do I. There's Autobots that are really dangerous as personalities like Sunstreaker. But they're on our side and they'll fight for you just as we fight for them. Don't ever forget that." He then ordered them to line up and get their weapons ready.
Two of them stared after the big Autobot a moment before getting in line. One of them leaned forward to another who had come with him from the same striker base in America. "Did you notice something, Sam?"
Sam Hedges looked back at his amigo, a big human male named James 'Big Jim' Johnson. "What?"
"There's no women. They have no women among them," Johnson whispered.
Sam Hedges considered that a moment, then nodded. "Weird."
At that moment Epps gave his orders and the group hustled to follow them.
Nearby, halfway to the hangar Ironhide smiled as he listened in. They had better treat us right he pondered even as the comments between the two failed to register on his mind. They would remain on his radar until he figured it out. He would do his slagging job and they would do theirs, giving him the respect as the Master of the Autobot Armed Forces that he deserved. Primus knew that they did that with them. What comes around goes around.
Then he paused to stare at the hangar door and the moody medic hidden somewhere in the depths of the massive structure. He smiled and shook his helm considering that it felt easier right now to face down Starscream unarmed than see his intended and true, the redoubtable Ratchet in this, the beginning stages of one of their epic prank wars. Gathering his internals together he continued onward walking into the hangar with his helm held up.
The trip across the hangar and onward to the road that led inside was fraught with knowing and/or curious looks and whispers among mechs. He ignored them, walking like usual with his optics forward and his cannons within reach. Age had its privileges and he knew if he even glanced at other mechs they would curl up and flee. The Ops Center was the only place on the Autobot schedule that was fully manned and running. He entered then walked to the sensor center to pause beside Jazz.
Jazz glanced up with a chuckle. "Hey, Ironhide. How's the missus?"
Ironhide perused the appropriate language file, then chuckled himself. "I dare you to call Ratchet that to his face."
"I don't have a suicidal tendency in my entire body," Jazz said snorting. "There's nothin' on the radar. You're stuck."
"Frag," Ironhide said. "When I need those fraggin' slaggers they lay low."
"A mech can't win," Jazz said with a grin on his handsome face.
Ironhide nodded. "Slaggin' right," he said turning to go. He paused as he nearly bumped into a concerned Prowl. "Uh, hello, Prowl. Can I do anything for you?"
Prowl shook his head. "No, Ironhide. But if there's anything I can do for you, you know I will. You just have to ask."
Ironhide blinked, then nodded as he became suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to flee. "Thank you, Prowl," he said moving around the mech, hurrying across the room and out the door. Prowl watched him, then turned with a mournful shake of his head.
Jazz caught him as a frown forming on his face. "What?" he asked.
Prowl debating whether to tell decided to because Jazz was third in command and he needed to know anything that might impinge on their performance capacity.
He was, after all, Prowl.
He leaned down and whispered into Jazz's audials what he had seen, heard and in brief; just the professional concerns Prime had for the two of them and not a thing more personal. He was nothing if not prudent.
He was, after all, Prowl.
"Wha?" Jazz said looking up with surprise and his optics filled with concern.
Prowl nodded. The two of them stood together as expressions of worry and concern highlighted their faces before they went back to work once more.
=0=In the corridors
Ironhide moved along ignoring everyone, then he decided in the middle of the roadway that he had no place to go. Their quarters weren't beckoning. Ratchet would expect him to clean them up as he was the one off duty at that moment. Med Bay had Ratchet and the Rec Room had everyone else. He was trapped without refuge so he stood a moment in a quandary, steaming in the middle of the corridor as everyone walked around him optics averted and peds flying.
He gathered his internals and began a beeline for the Med Bay determined to get the upper hand once more. His internal fortitude began to flag the closer he got so he stood outside shifting from ped to ped wondering to Primus how things could get so slagged. The door was open so he peered around the corner catching sight of First Aid. "Psst."
First Aid looked up, then toward the door catching sight of Ironhide. Fear flashed across his face before disappearing. "Ironhide."
"Shhh!" Ironhide said unconsciously imitating the soldiers he served with. He waved First Aid over.
He came with trepidation informing each ped fall.
"Where's Ratchet?"
"In his office," First Aid replied, the gentle mech nervously twisting his servos.
"What's his mood?"
"Fine. Considering."
"Considering what?" Ironhide asked.
"Considering you're both acting like glitch heads," First Aid offered, boldness overcoming his worry about slagging a front liner.
Ironhide sighed shifting slightly. "I'm going in. If I don't come out in a half a joor send in the troops."
First Aid watched with loathing as Ironhide stepped around him and walked towards Ratchet's door. He turned to look down the hallway for anyone he could use as reinforcements and found no one. "Maybe this will be a good time for a break," he said to no one in particular as he walked out the door.
=0=Nearby
Prime who was musing on the fun and games aka Ironhide v Ratchet chuckled once again. The idea that they were his parents was terribly amusing and even though he felt they would be amazing genitors he remembered his own with love. Bumblebee was in America with Sam and both would be coming out for a short stay in a couple of orns as per orders. Sam was going to be getting his regularly scheduled check up as the living repository of the Allspark. No one knew the long term effects of this situation but they also knew It resided in the boy's subspace with access on occasion to his psyche. They knew but Sam didn't. They had agreed to keep it that way for Sam's own protection. Check ups were a way to make sure all was as well as it could be given the circumstances.
As for the Allspark? It didn't disappear. It transformed.
Prime stood in the sunshine, the rain finally receding and absorbed the sunlight through his solar collectors. The warmth in his spark from the daffy machinations of two of his oldest closest friends was even greater as he thought about how he would even the score with Ironhide, something he seldom was able to do with the cunning older mech. This time, however, he was determined. He already had his plans laid down. He chuckled aloud drawing the attention of a passing clutch of femme organics walking together toward their office complex. They smiled and waved at him. He waved back with a smile, turning to go as he did. He had things to do, he considered. His step was light as he went.