Chapter 73
-0-Ops Center
They received the police report from N.E.S.T. affiliated operatives working in the Texas Rangers and it was concise and to the point. The perps had been 'free rangers', hired guns who were there to collect a box. They weren't talking and probably wouldn't. Reputations had to be maintained in their business. Rats usually ended up in a gully with a bullet in the noggin.
Nast was safe.
Prime considered the situation, the exposure of the contents of the box and the probability that it would destroy the ruse they made for Starscream. He put double teams on the communications intercept programs designed to cover everyone involved. He included Galloway after having given considerable processor time to that prickly prick.
Ratchet walked in, paused beside Prowl to exchange comments, then ambled over to Prime. "I analyzed the files you sent to me and I've gathered other information as well."
"Good," Prime said. "The venue is going to be open and you will be able to drive inside it along with your escort. Will Lennox is going to be with you and help with logistical support in case they do not understand what we need. General Morshower will be there and he will make the introductions. Then you will have to transform in front of everyone there including all the people watching on TV."
Ratchet nodded. "I'll give testimony in my alt format?"
"Yes," Prime said with a smirk. "I imagine you will glow."
"Am I not now?" Ratchet asked, smirking back at the big dignified Autobot. Dignified until he wasn't, Ratchet knew. "All this effort to remain incognito and a couple of red necked slaggers make this happen."
Prime nodded. "Maybe it is time for the world to see us and not just have speculation from our enemies."
Ratchet nodded. "And the others... do they transform or do they just sit and look beautiful? Or in the case of Ironhide, deeply menacing?"
Prime grinned. "They will not transform unless you think it would be wise. I have left that up to you."
"Thank you," Ratchet said.
"How is Ironhide?" Prime asked as he settled back in his seat.
"He's being a dumb aft. However, I did shame him into taking his heaping piles of slag to stow in his locker in the armory. Did you know there were fragmentation grenades under the berth? Fragmentation grenades."
Prime chuckled. "Gives new meaning to overload."
Ratchet chuckled. "Mech does love a good munition."
They both laughed.
Prime regarded Ratchet fondly. "How is the sparkling?"
"Running a race inside me," Ratchet said. "He likes to sprint around my spark. Makes it flutter."
"Is that normal?" Prime asked, his grin dampening a little.
"Totally," Ratchet said. "He's just experimenting with himself."
"He's Ironhide's sparkling," Prime said. "Did you pick out the color scheme yet? He told me he wanted big yellow circles around its eyes."
"Big yellow dots," Ratchet said shaking his head in disbelief. "'Night vision, Ratchet. It'll help him'." Ratchet grinned. "He's a sparkling. We don't have to worry about night vision for a while, I think."
"I would not think so," Prime said with a laugh.
Ratchet regarded him with a grin, then pulled a chair to sit. "So … when can we expect you to set an example and spark Prowl? Or maybe Prowl sparks you ..."
Prime thought a moment, wondering how he could explain himself without causing a ruckus. "I do not think I am the type who could be a carrier, Ratchet," he began.
"Really? What's the type, Prime?" Ratchet asked with an amused expression.
Prime looked at Ratchet as he considered his options. None of them were good. "I … I, uh … how do I say this?"
Ratchet settled back, crossing his arms over his chassis. "Take your time. I want to hear this."
Prime considered his options, slim to nothing and cut his losses. "This is why you are going to Washington and not me," he said with a grin. "I think I am speechless for now. Truly. Speechless."
Ratchet stood up then grinned down at him. "You can't slag a slagger, you know," Ratchet said with a chuckle. "You and Ironhide, mechanical mechs and all around chaos bringers to the nth degree. Is that it?"
"Only if you want it to be, Ratchet," Prime said with a grin.
Ratchet chuckled. "You can be a diplomat, Prime. All you have to do is make the slag so sweet people say thank you. Like now."
"I will remember that," Prime said.
Ratchet smirked, then walked toward the door, pausing on the way out to whisper to Prowl.
Prowl looked at Prime and grinned slightly making Prime deeply nervous.
Prime watched as the world turned, all the precision he expected from his team not only met but exceeded. Life was good.
-0-Ironhide
Until it wasn't.
He stood in the wash racks getting a thorough going over. The next day, they'd be flying out on Silverbolt to Washington, D. C. or as he fondly called it, 'The fraggin' Pit'. He'd have to be made presentable because he'd be representing his kind in front of people, some of whom still believed the world was only six thousand years old.
/... slag that … my left aft cheek is at least that old .../ He chuckled.
He scrubbed all he could reach and when Ratchet stepped in to take the brush, he found himself being cleaned in places he didn't know existed.
Mostly because he couldn't reach them and thus, forgot they were there.
Like that.
"That tickles," he said glancing down as Ratchet scrubbed between his legs. "Watch the critical energy port there, Ratchet. I don't think you want The Sexy to happen here in public. Might give lesser mechs spark arrest."
Ratchet peering up as he snickered at Ironhide. "Is that what would happen? Spark arrest at your masterly ways?"
"Frag right," Ironhide said as he put his hands against the wall to brace himself as Ratchet began to scrub his broad back, his shields and his aft. "Consider with all the 'facing that goes on around here that you're the first mech to spark in what? A zillion vorns?"
"And that's because you're such a virile mech?" Ratchet said with amusement as he scrubbed under Ironhide's arm pits.
Ironhide chuckled then jerked at a tickle. A rap on his helm by the scrub brush brought him back in line. "Of course it is, Ratchet," Ironhide said with a smile, his capacity for bullshit rising as fast as the shine on his armor. "What else could it be?"
Ratchet grinned as he thought about a dozen other reasons but because he was a good supportive bond he let Ironhide have his (de)(i)llusions. "That's right, Only One. If you say so."
"I do," Ironhide said grinning broadly at his own bullshit. "I, Ironhide the Chaos Bringer, Ironhide the Relentless, the baddest bad aft in the entire Autobot Army say so. I have spoken."
He bumped his head on the wall as Ratchet pushed him forward to get the underside of his underside. Ironhide grinned, a chaos bringer being fragged around by a gangling yellow aft medico. It never failed to make him smile how Ratchet could bring him to his knee assemblies merely with a glance.
Or a well placed servo leveraging his nearly five tons against Ironhide's lesser 4.9 metric tons of Awesomeness™.
"You missed a few places, Ironhide," Ratchet said tossing the brush in a bucket to take the hose in hand, shooting it here and there until all the soap scum was gone.
Ironhide turned toward Ratchet, flexing his superstructure this way and that, content to allow it to speak for His Magnificence as Ratchet looked him over with a gimlet optic.
Ratchet who grinned at his antics shook his head. "I don't know if I want to take you into public, Ironhide. You look pretty wonderful all cleaned up."
Ironhide grinned. "Course I do."
"Now we have to wax and buff you."
"What?" Ironhide said, his smile evaporating along with his dignity. "I'm a Chaos Bringer, Ratchet. I don't need no shine and buff. Those slaggers can take this in the raw. Just like all my mechs," he said with a chuckle.
"I'm a Chaos Bringer's 'Old Lady'. You will have a wax and buff. I HAVE spoken."
Ratchet took his hand and the two walked out, Ironhide mumbling and glowering until he got halfway down the hall. He pulled them to a stop. "What … where did you get that 'Old Lady' remark?"
"The mercs," Ratchet said tugging him forward.
Ironhide tugged back. "The mercs? When?"
"If you promise to be a good little sparkling and come with me to Med Bay for your shine and buff, I'll tell you. I'll also give you a cookie." Ratchet dazzled him with a brilliant smile.
"I'm not a sparkling," Ironhide mumbled as they continued on their way.
"Could have fooled me," Ratchet said. "At least our little sparkling won't be an only child."
"Oh, ha-ha, Ratchet," Ironhide said as they turned into Med Bay together. "What kind of cookies do ya have? Oreos?" he asked hopefully as they disappeared from view.
-0-Sunstreaker, Sideswipe and Bluestreak
Sideswipe leaned against the wall as Bluestreak and Sunstreaker worked on his detailing. He glowed like a lantern, his shine luminous. Sunstreaker was on his knee assemblies looking upward at Sideswipe's thigh, buffer in hand. He buffed here and there considering what parts would be most noticeable once Sideswipe transformed.
"Are you going to fully sheath your swords, Sideswipe?" Bluestreak asked as he buffed Sideswipe's shoulder with a small hand held.
"If I have to transform, I'll probably need them out and ready." Sideswipe smirked down at his oblivious brother who was having a slow burn about not being able to go into the limelight as well.
"I doubt that anything is going to happen, Sideswipe," Sunstreaker said. "At least, there."
Sideswipe looked down at his brother spying his wolfish grin. "You break the agreement and Prowl will disassemble you to make flower pots."
"Did I say I was going to do anything?" Sunstreaker asked too politely.
"You better not," Sideswipe said glancing over to Bluestreak. "He better not and you, too."
Bluestreak smiled. "Don't worry."
Sunstreaker shook his head. "I hate Praxian customs."
Bluestreak looked down at him, smiling brightly at Sunny's angst. "Wait until there's a sparkling."
They both looked at Bluestreak who looked at both of them. It was clear to him the intentions on their faces "Why do you automatically assume I'll be the carrier?"
"Because," they both said in unison.
-0-Ironhide and Ratchet in Med Bay
"And they said that as I was walking by," Ratchet concluded as he applied a buffer to Ironhide's arm. The tension in the big mech was palpable. "I think you showed them the error of their ways, Ironhide. You need to relax."
"You want me to relax? We're hip deep in fraggers here, Ratchet. Not just here but in Washington. You want me to relax."
"If you do I'll let you play with my interface port tonight."
Ironhide snorted then glanced at Ratchet who was grinning as he worked his way upward to Ironhide's wrist. "Why wait until then?"
Ratchet considered his remark. Then he peeked out noticing no one in the main bay. He grinned as he set the buffer down.
Ironhide rubbing his wrist let the panel slide open, his interface cord dangling out. He glanced around as well.
Ratchet opening his own took Ironhide's, then plugged it into the port in his wrist. Ratchet took his own and grinned. "Did you hear what the soldiers said about us? Prowl had to tell Prime and he almost went to the Matrix from mortification."
"Yeah," Ironhide said with a chuckle. "Jazz let me read it."
They stared at each other a moment, then looked around at the main bay beyond like two over sized delinquents. No one was there. Ironhide took the cord and put it into his mouth to suck on it for a second. He took it out then looked at Ratchet who was staring at him silently. "Anything?"
"Nope."
Ironhide snickered. Then he plugged Ratchet's cord into his port. They stood together, the sensations of pleasure coursing across their circuits to end almost instantly into a crescendo of feeling. Ironhide removed Ratchet's plug, then his own. They stowed them as Ratchet kissed Ironhide. He picked up the buffer again.
"Now *that* is a 'face," Ironhide said with a smile.
"You won't get an argument from me, Ironhide," Ratchet said with a grin.
"Of course not," Ironhide said with deep satisfaction.
Ratchet laughed loudly for a long time.