The Diego Diaries: Staff Meeting ("It's all in the subtext, pardner.") (407)

-0-Big conference room, Ops Center, Autobot City, Mars

:Ratchet:

:What?:

:What are you doing?:

:What I always do in all things at all times... faking it: (Big blue optical ridges waggle at onliest Only One suggestively)

:Oh, ha-ha, Ratchet. Very funny: (grin) (Peers down at infant aka Prowler lying in his arms trying to grab the little Prowl dollie held by atar aka Ironhide. Grins at atar. Atar grins back)

(Winged wonder aka Prowl glances at infant and makes plans) :Pay attention, minions: (Gives pointed optics at offending minions)

:Like you, Prowler?: -two minionesque mechanisms with fake innocent looks

:Cry babies. Oh! Look at that!: ( Winged Wonder peers at door)

(Minions glance toward door. Both look back at Winged Wonder. Atar minion looks at arms now empty. Frown forms) :Slagger. Give me back my infant:

:Not on your spark: (Settles tiny Prowl doppelganger on his arm and grins. Smugly. Primly. Like someone who outranks someone else. That kind.) :Give me his dollie:

:No: (Oversize Kewpie doll minion Ironhide pouts like nobody's business as Ada Alor smirks majestically at his comically cute little pout. It was like old times when he would put the big doofus into a Chair of Doom in the corner for doing a bad.)

(Several pair of optics around the big table and room losing the battle to stay awake and care note movement by the usual suspects and swivel to stare at the impending snit fit as some grasp the subtext faster than others)

:Awww. Did you get your prong in a twist?: -Big Prowl holding tiny Prowler with ginormous triumph.

(More optics turn to watch)

Winged Wonder grins at Kewpie doll minion for a moment, then picks up and pretends to look at agenda datapad in imitation of his usual uptight, prim, buttoned-down self.

(So does everyone else including the speaker, Miler who caught on first. Miler continues droning on about bridges, squaring the quadrangles, hipping the hops and putting on the spangles for the trials of the local area bridges upcoming but clues in Venture, the femmes, Jetta and Bulkhead who are playing hangman in their processors as well as the entire Seeker contingent into the emerging mayhem near the head of the big table. Yes, our Miler has come a long way)

:Ouch. That makes MY prong hurt: -Jazz

Stern Martial Optics of Pouting Minion, Ironhide *IMPALE* smart aft little saboteur mini-con, Jazz where the 'sun don't shine' bringing down more internal mirth upon his sulking yet somehow ultra masculine self. It is noted that another Ultra aka Magnus has not caught on yet. Arcee contemplates cluing him in, then declines. Later, she thinks. Later I will explain it.

Maybe.

She grins.

So does Elita.

Ironhide's pouting brings the rain from nearly everyone clued in, especially those with criminal tendencies:

:WEENIE!:

:CRY BABY!:

:WAAAAA!:

:What's going on here, Wheeljack?: -confusion

:BWAHAHAHAHA! :

:Pretend to pay attention, Perceptor: -intense amusement

:ITS HIS PITY PARTY AND HE'LL CRY IF HE WANTS TO! CRY IF HE WANTS TO! CRY IF HE WANTS TO! YOU WOULD CRY TOOOOO IF IT HAPPENED TO YOU!:

:Why pretend about what, 'Jack?:

:BOO HOO, IRONHIDE!: -Onliest Only One being a scumbag

:I'll explain later, Percy: -grin

:WHAT THE FRAG!? YOU GET A SPARKLING! YOU RAISE THEM UP, WASHING THEIR LITTLE FACES AND MAKING SURE THEY HAVE THE ADVANTAGES! LOOK AT THAT LITTLE HAT! I PICKED THAT OUT MYSELF!: -Ironhide having a snit, rising up in high dungeon even if he stays seated looking outwardly calm and attentive.

Everyone pauses for an awww moment. Optics of entire group turn to peer at tiny winger-let. Prowler's hat is a little red thing, round and cute with a leaf and stem on the top to show that its a tomato. Then they turn to watch His Old Mech Whine (tm).

:YOU GO TO WORK EVERY ORN. YOU DO YOUR BEST TO MAKE SURE THERE'S ENERGON ON THE TABLE AND TOYS IN THE TOY BOX AND THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR IT?!:

Everyone stared at him. There was no answer. Then Perceptor leans forward slightly. :I am assuming that was a rhetorical question ...:

A bonking sound drew their attention as Optimus fell face forward on the table. Then his shoulders shook as he began to laugh. He sat up and threw his helm back, riotous laughter exploding from him. Everyone including Miler who was trying to present his report and keep up with the subtext paused to watch. Prime howled, then sat forward. Grinning at Ironhide, he shook his helm. "Whiner."

Everyone relaxed, the hoots and laughter that brought filling the room. Jazz leaned forward on his elbows. "Why do I have a feelin' that continuin' onward is futile?"

"Because it is?" Starscream asked with a smirk.

"Atah."

Everyone paused, then turned to look at Prowl. Prowl who was stilled looked down too. Prowler was looking up with a giant smile. Prowl smiled at him too. "Did you hear that?"

Ironhide who sat stunned himself leaned toward his son. "Prowler?"

The infant smiled. "Atah." He waited with a giant smile for the applause. Ratchet on the other servo had another opinion. "That little traitor," he said.

"He is a baby. You are a loser," Prowl said with satisfaction. He looked at the baby. "Who am I, darling?"

"A slagger first class," Ratchet replied. He stood up and stared at the infant, resting his servos on the table top as he leaned toward the Baby and the Prim Priss holding him. "Traitor. Little slagging trai-"

"ADA!"

"On the other hand," Ratchet said sitting down with a huge grin.

Ratchet got the scorn and derision he deserved as Prowl put the infant on the table. Prowler sat looking at everyone, his little red sweatshirt covering his little frame nearly to his knees. There were slits in the back for his wings to fit through and he looked adorable. On the front in Cybertronian glyphs was 'Grandada's Little Tomato' in bold white. Two dancing tomatoes with happy little faces were there too holding tiny hands. It was a bit big but 'he can grow into it, slag it, Ratchet!' Ironhide had said when he got it from the Circle of Light Craft Guild as a special order.

He had designed it himself.

Optimus took a tiny ped and pulled Prowler over encircling him with his arms. Glancing up, he grinned. "Continue I guess."

Miler snorted as he sat. "Why?"

"Why indeed," Optimus said. He grinned at the baby who patted his nose assembly. "How about you coming to live with me?"

The baby smiled. "Atar."

Ironhide rolled his optics as a deluge of abuse fell upon his helm. Ratchet smirked at him. "Whiner."

"LoooOOOoooooser," Ironhide replied to Ratchet. The room paused a moment as all turned to look at Ironhide.

"He gets upset when someone takes his toys," Starscream said silkily. "I think someone needs a time out."

"I think so too."

"Ada! You're supposed to stick up for me!" Ironhide demanded.

Alor grinned. "Want to sit in my lap and suck my thumb?"

"Did he do that?" Jazz asked with a grin.

"He did. When he'd get a boo boo, he would come and do that. He was Orion's age. He was so cute," Alor said rather dreamily. He sat forward and pinched Ironhide's cheek. "YOU WERE SO CUTE!"

"What happened to ya?" Jazz asked as he ducked a punch.

Laughter and hoo-haw met that. Caro and Payload who were watching looked dazzled. Nitro and Revo were deeply amused. Cloudburst and Wren who were sitting next to a very amused Great Elder smirked. "I would have defected earlier if I had known staff meetings were this amusing on this side of the fence," Cloudburst said.

Starscream nodded. "Old Bucket Head had no sense of humor. I could tell you stories," he purred.

Everyone paused, then turned to the big Seeker. He blinked, then grinned. "I'm saving them for my memoirs."

Everyone gave that the 'love' it deserved, then turned back to Prowler. The baby was sitting with Uncle Prime, his tiny sweet face barely seen over the top of Prime's giant arms. He was patting them. "What were we talking about?" Prime asked looking up from the infant.

"Something dull about bridges and stuff," Ratchet said winking at Miler. He got a kick under the table from the grinning mathematician.

"Okay," Prime said, his optics fixed on Prowler who was smiling enormously at him. "This baby is so cute. Sooo cute."

"He's that end of the awesome scale." -'Atah' Ironhide waxing proudly on his offspring.

"I designed him." -Ratchet

"And what does that mean?" -Ironhide

"You didn't get to see him until he was named." -R

"Yeah? So what?" -I

"Why?" -Perceptor

"Because Ironbutt thinks he can work his wiles without penalties." -R

"He did. Voile." -Optimus Prime nodding to the little bit who was chewing on his pinkie. Optimus's that is.

"What penalties?" Springer asked leaning forward. "I could use the tactics against the bond. Sparking and all, its new turf for me."

"What makes you think I'm going to spark?" -Drift looking at his partner with a smirk.

"Inevitability," Springer said with a smirk of his own.

That got the attention it deserved and then some as the party rolled onward. Ratchet sat back and glanced at Blackjack who was enjoying the snit of his son just a *little bit too much*. "Ironhide wants a football team."

Everyone paused at that.

"Then Ironhide needs to contribute," Blackjack said casting a gimlet optic at his onliest only son.

"I do," Ironhide said smugly. That earned mass abuse, a retching sound from Prowl and a slap on the back of the helm from his Ada. He grinned anyway. "We have all of ya beat. If you really cared about this colony, you would spark. There has to be younglings hip deep around here if we intend to survive."

For a moment it was silent. Then Jazz turned to Ironhide. "That's pretty profound, Ironhide. Its our patriotic duty then?"

"Frag yes," Ironhide said as he sat back with his arms crossed over his chassis like some kind of smug Buddha.

"Profound, yes but it still blows," Nitro said from behind Ratchet where he sat with Revo enjoying the mayhem.

"I knew I liked you," Ironhide replied with a grin.

"I think we need a show of servos to see who the patriots are in here," Ratchet said sitting with his arms crossed before him as he lounged in his chair.

No one raised their servos but a smirking Miler, Alor, Starscream and Prowl. Starscream sat back and grinned. "Its easy to see who wears the ball bearings in this group of slaggers."

Huge umbrage was taken and thrown back into the faces of the poseurs. It was a stand off.

"What's on the agenda, Prowl?" Optimus asked as he pretended to bite Prowler's tiny servo. When he did a tiny puff of laughter could be heard.

Prowl picked up a datapad, glanced a moment, then tossed it back on the table top. "Who cares?" he said to enormous laughter and a few bits of applause here and there. Then he grinned rather smugly. And primly. "I think we need to discuss where I'm going to put the Championship football trophy in the Residence."

"You slagger," Starscream said with a poisonous glance at Ratchet. "Those twins. What does it take to put them down permanently?"

"More than you got," Ratchet said with a huge smug grin. "Get used to it. Vos sucks."

"No it doesn't," Cloudburst said glancing at Prowl. "It would do just fine if Prowl hadn't cheated and packed Praxus Science."

All optics turned toward Prowl who fought mightily the urge to crawl under the table. Affecting a smug look of confidence he didn't necessarily feel for once, he turned to Cloudburst. "Says you."

Even Ironhide laughed out loud at that one.

"This is so exciting, Herling. Isn't it exciting?" Nova asked his bond as they sat together enjoying the show.

"I think so," Herling said as he grinned at his sweet bond.

"I think we need to have more humor in our school staff meetings," Nova said with a sweet smile.

"I think so too. We're having one tonight after school. All of you should be there half a breem early for good seating. The hand signals will be me waving like an idiot," Herling said to general guffaws and all around 'WELL DONE(S)!" He gave a tiny bow in acknowledgement, something that he would treasure forever from such a group.

"I don't understand any of this," Perceptor said shaking his helm.

"Sit next to me next time, Percy," Kup said around his stogie. "I don't get it either." Laughter and a pat on the shoulder by Silverclaw met that as geezers of a feather flocked together.

"I would like to say something here," a deep sonorous voice said. Everyone turned to look at the Great Elder. He was sitting between Starscream and Thundercracker who had a smirk on his handsome face. "I have had some interesting times in my life and some dire ones but never have I been as happy as here. We are equal. Our people will become many and great once more. That being said, I concur that Ironhide is a wimp."

The roof nearly came off the room as the laughter exploded in the group. Even Magnus was chuckling. Sitting out in Ops Center, Smokey and Topspin glanced at the open door of the room. Everyone inside was laughing themselves silly. Sunny stood up and moved a chair nearer to the action. Sitting down with a pad, pretending to be working, he dialed in. Smokey wanted to but didn't have the ice cold nerve that the Wrecker had. He merely pestered the big mech to tell him what was happening.

"I don't think short of Primus that you can get a more emphatic statement than yours, Great Elder," Starscream purred.

Ironhide sat shaking his helm, then looked around. "Slaggers."

"We still have orders of business," Prowl said with a briskness that Prime knew was bullshit based and not duty. He looked at a datapad, then the others. "We still haven't decided where I will put the Championship troph-" That was as far as he got before the abuse buried him. Prowl sat with a smug grin of impossible triumph on his handsome face as his ada actually subbed his camera and took photos. He looked at Miler. Miler grinned. "You look so cute," he said before that got a generous amount of attention from the group.

"I think we should set the calendar," Prime said as he picked up Prowler. He sat back and held the infant over his head smiling at him as the baby smiled back, his little red outfit comical and cute. "What's coming up that's fun, Prowl?"

Prowl snorted as everyone laughed, then glanced at Ironhide with a smug grin. "Autobot Scouts."

The place exploded. Apparently, some of them had done some research.

"A SCOUT WILL ALWAYS BE THRIFTY, KIND, REVERENT..."

"I WANT TO BE A WEBELO!"

"What's a webelo, Wheeljack?"

"I'll tell you later, Percy."

"I WANT TO BE A WEBELO TOO! WHAT'S A WEBELO!?" -Jazz

"I don't understand any of this, Wheeljack."

"It's okay, Percy. Remember, you were a Wrecker. They can't take that away from you." -Wheeljack with a grin.

"Why would anyone?" -Perceptor with confusion.

Prime watched the nerd dialog with a grin even as the rest rose to the occasion. It was tonic.

"REVERENT, uh, clean ... what is the rest of it?"

"A scout is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean and reverent."

Everyone turned to the front of the table where Prowl sat with a smug expression, his arms crossed on his chassis. Ratchet snorted, then laughed. "Why am I not surprised you know the oath, Prim Priss? Teacher's pet."

Prowl leaned forward impaling Ratchet with a gimlet optic. "LooOOOOooOOOOoooser."

An empty energon cube bounced off Prowl's helm and landed on Jetta's lap. Jetta flung it back and it hit Nitro square in the face. He stood and threw it at Jetta hitting Elita on the noggin. She rose and threw that one at Nitro and her own at Ratchet just because. All at once everyone stood throwing this and that, the rain of items thick and varied.

Optimus stood with Prowler pressed against the back wall as the fusillade erupted. It died down just as fast as everyone sat back down again. They laughed and tossed what they could, then turned to Prime. Pressed against the wall holding a miniature Prowl dressed in a tomato suit, he grinned. "Done?"

"No," Jetta said as he threw a cube at Prime. The Messiah of their people, the visionary leading them down the primrose path to the promised land was buried in debris as he turned protecting the infant in his arms. Then he turned back and looked at them with a grin. "Slaggers," he said as he pulled out a chair to sit. "Now," he said looking around, Prowler perched on his arm, "where were we?"

"The Championship troph-" Prowl began before he was clobbered with the last of the table top trash.

-0-TBC edited August 23, 2013 7-4-14