NOTE: Happy Anniversary, dear Elita-1!
=0=Let's rumble
The Diego Diaries: PsyOps 19
=0=Around
:Where are you?:
:I'm at the prison. Why?:
:Dinner at our house:
(grin) :I'll be there:
:Good. Ratchet out:
Flint paused a moment reflecting on the good fortune that had found him after all the vorns of loneliness and wandering. Then he turned back to the task at servo. The inmates were meeting with their representation and he was supervising the visits. Some of them had cases pending and some weren't in the docket yet. That was being rectified.
He stood near the wire and watched as Sentinel Prime talked in hushed tones with Highrode, his defense attorney. When they were finished, Flint would turn over the duty to the night shift and head for home and family.
It was thrilling to even think of such a possibility.
-0-over there
Silverbolt sat on the hillock deep in conversation with Xantium. He was recounting a number of events involving mechs they knew in common. Friends from vorns before were being checked off the internal list almost all of them had somewhere in their processors. Some were checked as alive for now and others were crossed out as deceased.
Sitting on the hillock talking to his brother-in-law, he marveled at how far they had come. Roaming the universe as a group, he and his own brothers had searched for the AllSpark diligently. They had helped migrations here and there, rescued bots in need and helped colonies from time to time as they could. When the call from Optimus had come, they had streaked toward it content to know that they would be able to do more under his leadership.
They had arrived during a fight and had settled on an island in the middle of a sea of salt water. The planet had been strange at the time but over the days and months Earth had become a very knowable and comfortable place for him.
Mars was home now. It was where he lived with Omega. It was where his brothers and Cosmos were. It was where Omega's family was gathering. Metroplex and Fort Max were here. The Prime was here. Life was so good he could hardly think about it, so superstitious was he about their propects.
The sound of Seekers nearby readying to do their patrols caught their attention and they paused to see some lift off and some touch down.
"The night is beautiful, Silverbolt," Xantium said. "I don't particularly like organic worlds. The contamination gets into your systems but look at the sights."
The city sparkled in the distance, its features clear in the night illumination. The Temple glowed. The human Habitat was lit up along with the administration buildings. Towers glistened and one even had colored lights that sparkled, turning differently in color and design. It was beautiful.
"This is a good place, Xantium."
"It is," Xantium replied. He glanced over his massive shoulder and smiled. "Here they are at last."
The slight tremors of Kappa, Omega and Gamma's peds could be felt as they walked to the pair, Zeta following behind. They would sit and talk, laugh and plan, hoping against hope that the others would find their way here too. The night would pass quietly as they sat together and talked.
-0-In Club Cybertron
"You dance like a ruptured targ."
"Are you mocking my mech?"
"Maybe. No one can dance like me. Trust me, First Aid … as cute as Bumblebee is and I am saying he's waaaay cute … he can't dance for slag."
"What the frag? Cliff, you don't know what you're talking about."
Bumblebee half in the bag tried to follow the conversation. To his blotto optics, his First Aid was having a disagreement with Cliffjumper who was sitting with his own frag buddy, Hopper. Hopper who was a very nice mech from Specialty Fabrication-Glass, Metal and Non-Metal sat between them with a distressed expression. "I think we need to dial it down don't you, Cliff? I don't want anything to mess up the evening. How about you and I go to Old Maccadam's? I heard it just opened yesterday."
"Sounds good," Cliff said standing up shakily. "These two aren't any fun anyway. Bee can't dance. First Aid is a slagger. Let's go to Blurr's bar." He draped an arm around Hopper and that small bot half carried, half dragged Cliff to the door and beyond.
First Aid watched them go and turned to Bee. "He's a slagger. There's nothing you can't do that isn't perfect."
Bee warmed to his cellinoids grinned. "You're really a good bot, Aid. Did I tell you that?"
Aid who was half in the bag himself smiled. "Yes."
Bee laughed and leaned back in his chair. "We need to dance."
Aid staggered up and stood swaying. "Whatever my best little bot needs, he gets."
Bee stumbled up and the two staggered to the dance floor where they spent most of their time holding each other up. That is, they did until they stepped on the ped of a much bigger much drunker bot. The fist that took out First Aid was only matched by the little yellow ped that landed once more on the throbbing foot of the offending mech.
Then it was on.
-0-On the beat
They laughed and stepped out of the alcove where they had had one of their infamous 'tussles'. Long known as the place to frag when no one was around, the alcove had been the start of many a surprise sparking. Given their experience and all around maturity, they had only been through that scare once.
And it was negative.
They knew because they stole a meter from Ratchet to find out.
They didn't want that mad mech to know.
They did it themselves.
Walking out with smirks on their handsome faces, Drift and Springer walked to the stairs that would take them topside. The night air was brisk, a mere -147 degrees. They felt good and even better as they meandered along on their beat. The streets were filled with the usual younger night crowd and families going to dinner. The decorations were beautiful and they gave a festiveness to the night.
"Christmas Surprise is coming," Springer said with a smirk. "What do you want?"
"I get to choose?" Drift asked with a snort. "If that's the case, you flat on your back in the berth."
"That's easily done," Springer said with a chuckle. They walked past The Paint Box then paused. There was shouting and the usual coming from Club Cybertron. Turning and hurrying into the entrance, they got there in time to see Bumblebee fly backwards through the air from the dining room to the bar. He landed hard and paused a moment getting his (ball)bearings.
Springer reached down and hoisted him up, holding him off the ground. Bee looked at him and smiled. "Hi, Springer."
"Hi, Bee. What's up?" Springer replied with a grin.
Kup who was sitting at the bar nursing a drink and a gimlet optic glanced at both. "Hi, boys. What took ya?"
"We were fragging in the alcove," Drift said with a broad grin. Just as he did, a huge hulking mech came out loaded for bear.
"Give me that little fragger. I'll bend him like a pretzel."
"You can't," Drift said stepping between the hulking bot and the squirming Bee.
"Why the frag not?" the hulk said moving closer to Drift fists clenched and smoke coming out his audials.
"He's the Prime's nephew," Drift said. He glanced back at Springer. "Or is he his son?" Drift looked back at the mech who paused with a confused expression. "I had to ask. Springer is the Prime's missus."
The mech stood thoroughly confused. Then Kup got down and stepped closer. "Why don't you go inside and drink something. I'll take care of Bee. I'm his Grandpa."
Bee who hung limply in Springer's servo looked at the big mech through blurry optics. The mech turned and walked back inside the restaurant. Kup looked at the three and nodded. "I'll get Aid. Meet ya at the brig."
Springer nodded and set Bee down. Then he picked him up tossing him over his shoulder. Bee punched his back with a fist. "Relax and enjoy the ride, Bee. You get to look at one of my best features all the way to the brig."
"I think so," Drift said with a chuckle. Kup walked out with First Aid slung over his shoulder. "He alive?"
"Yeah, but he won't like it in the morning," Kup said as they turned and walked out again. It would be a jolly stroll to the Fortress and the brig below where the two would be deposited in the same cell. They would stay there until morning and a meet up with the Magistrate, Semi.
-0-Ops Center
:Hey:
:What?:
:What are you doing?:
:Holding back the Pit single handedly. Why?:
:Come for dinner. Bring the fam. That's an order:
:I outrank you:
:I can declare you unfit:
:I can overrule you. I frag the Prime on a regular basis:
:Really? How often? What positions. Inquiring processors want to know: (Evil grin filters in over the link)
:Wouldn't you like to know: (Evil grin filters back)
:Actually, Prowl, I would: (Maniacal waggling of optical ridges is implied)
Prowl paused to chuckle and peered around. No one noticed. That is, they noticed but had perfected the art of not being noticed by anyone who can notice.
Like that.
:We're eating in. Bring the fam. I want you to see something. I put in an order for it an orn after my own because I have your back, you slagger. Get over here. Bring the younglings and the Messiah. Part the city if you have to but come. Dinner is going to be had and we need your servos to carry it back:
He considered the mad mech who had become the unlikely ally and BFF of his dreams. :We're on our way. Part the city? That's blasphemy in some places:
:Sue me: (Evil grin floats over time and space landing on Prowl's processor)
:Someone in some place somewhere probably will. We're on our way:
:Good. Lay a patch. Ratchet out:
Prowl grinned and looked at Optimus who sat at the table listening enraptured to all four of his little mechs telling him about their orn. Even Miracle was standing there nodding and offering the odd word or two. Walking over, he leaned down. "Dinner was offered at the den of iniquity. Do you wish to comply?"
"I think its required isn't it?" Optimus answered. The little mechs looked from one to the other.
"Are we going to eat at Uncle Ratchet's house?" Rambler asked with a hopeful grin.
"Looks like it," Prowl said with a grin.
They whooped and hugged everything and each other. With that show of approval, they all gathered up and handed off command, making their way to the door and the long now sparkling shiny walk to the nut house also known as the Bosom of Love.
-0-On the beat again
"What do you want for Christmas Surprise?"
"Dinner and a good frag."
"That's easy and cheap. Nothing else move you?"
Springer paused and looked at Drift, his companion of the spark and the body. "How about a bond?"
Drift looked at Springer, at the serious expression on his face. "You're serious aren't you."
Springer nodded. He turned and began to walk on. Drift who was stalled a moment followed catching up again. "You never brought this up before," Drift said.
"Nope."
"Why now?"
"Seemed like a nice night to be serious."
Pause.
"This could dent your image a little. Mechs might think you're getting soft and how would that look for the leader of the Wreckers and head of security for a planet?"
"Don't care."
Pause.
"Alright."
Springer paused. He looked at Drift with serious optics. "I don't want to put limits on you. I don't want to box you in. I don't want you to do something for me that you don't want or feel. You know I like our life as it is and if you don't want to make anything permanent, I will be content with things the way they are now. Right?"
Drift nodded. "I know."
"What do you feel?"
Drift considered things a moment. "I felt everything for you the moment I saw you. It was like a match and a pool of gas. You felt it too."
"I did. Never for anyone else. Just you," Springer said nodding.
"It was what I think a bond must be right from the first glance. We have a good thing going and even if a bond isn't in the cards right now, I agree with you. I will never leave you alive."
Springer nodded. "Nor I," he said seriously.
"Given that, a bond seems sorta natural in the progression. And you know how I feel about progressions," he said smirking slightly.
"Oh yeah," Springer said in a soft smoky voice. "I do."
"Then I guess you get your present," Drift said quietly. He grinned slightly. "Do me one small favor."
"What's that?"
"Don't tell anyone especially Ratchet. Let that old mech go through hoops. It's entertaining."
Springer grinned and leaned in kissing Drift softly. "Deal," he said. He grinned and they turned walking into the darkness of the night.
The city continued onward through the evening as Mars and their part of the Tharsus Plain made its way toward morning. Moments later, happy younglings would skip along the same sidewalk followed by their smiling laughing genitors. It would continue until Optimus Prime and his family knocked on the door of Ratchet and Ironhide.
=0=TBC
2012 (11)