The Diego Diaries: New Years Ho! (581) edited
-0-Ratchet
He stood in the small clinic off the main rec room of the Fortress. It was a first aid station for boo boos that required immediate attention. Medics trained in the Home Guard staffed it, taking their turns in service. Ratchet had dismissed them, then graciously called for the Senior Autobots to come for their physicals: :GET YOUR BIG AFTS IN HERE OR I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN WITH A CLAW HAMMER!:
Ironhide sat plugged in like an old fashioned telephone exchange board, his irritation fully on display. "HURRY UP, OLD MECH! I HAVE THINGS TO DO!"
"Like what?" Ratchet asked as he watched data fly by on the overhead monitor.
"THINGS! SLAG IT! I AM IRONHIDE! I HAVE SLAGGING THINGS TO DO!"
Ratchet grinned. "You got nothing."
"I got it all," Ironhide said with a smoky optic. "All YOU need!"
Ratchet nearly swallowed his tongue laughing. "Oh, Ironhide. You say the sweetest things."
"I do don't I," the big mech said preening. "You done?"
"Not yet." -R
"SLAG IT! GET DONE!" -IH
"When I'm slagging good and ready,I WILL BE DONE!" R, getting his neck bowed. Ratchet turned nobs that weren't on, flipped switches that didn't do anything and jotted notes that had nothing to do with the big hulking menace sitting on the diagnostic berth. He puttered and pittered watching Ironhide with his periphery vision. It was hilarious. "Sit still."
"I'M NOT SITTING STILL! LET ME GO! I HAVE TO BE FREE!" -Ironhide, snitting and being impertinent.
"YOU WILL GO WHEN I SAY SO!" -Ratchet, abusing his authority in a snit of his own over Ironhide's impertinence
"FRAG THAT! I'M PRIME STUFF! THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH ME! SLAG IT! LET ME GO!" -Ironhide pressing the point
"NO!" -R
"YES!" -I
"NO!" -R
"YES!" -I
"YES!" -R
"NO!" -I
"Okay." -R
Ironhide sat a moment counting his fingers, then glared at Ratchet. "Evil old mech."
Ratchet grabbed Ironhide's face and kissed him. He grinned. "Shut up and let me finish."
Ironhide grinned. "Okay." He sat like a big hulking Kewpie doll fiddling with a couple of tools on a tray nearby. A sound at the door caught their attention. They both glanced around spotting Prowl. He was leaning against the door with his arms crossed, a smirk firmly on his handsome face.
"You came, slagger," Ratchet said with a grin.
"How could I not answer your gracious invitation?" Prowl said walking in to sit on another berth. "I do feel nauseated though. I didn't expect to catch the PDA when I did."
"PDA?" Ironhide asked.
"Public display of affection. Or affliction if you will," Prowl said. He grinned. He looked at Ratchet. "I would like to report intense waves of nausea."
"How many times do I have to tell you, Prowler. Don't look in the mirror," Ratchet said with a giant smile.
A snort at the door caught their attention as Prime walked in. He paused looking at the three of them with great amusement. "You aren't slagging my winger are you?"
"Now would I do that?" Ratchet asked.
"Yes." -Prime, Prowl, Ironhide and a mech who dropped off something from Specialty Fabrications-Medical. He walked out with a grin.
Ratchet watched him go. "Slagger." He turned to Prime with a giant smile. "Are you ready?"
"No." -Prime
Ratchet plugged him in, then Prowl. Three mechs sat looking stupid. They glanced at each other, then Ratchet who was monitoring data.
"WELL?" -all three of them
"HUSH!" -R
"Did you find anything of interest?" Prime asked with a grin.
"I'm still looking for a long lost key if that's what you mean?" Ratchet asked as he glanced up from full body images of all three. "Ironhide's fine. There's nothing there."
"HA-HA, RATCHET!" Ironhide said with a grin.
"You look great, Optimus. I see that the Matrix has done you nothing but the best possible good. Who knew you were a micro mini-con before you were chosen to be Prime?" Ratchet asked with a smirk.
"OH, HA-HA, RATCHET!" Prowl said with a smug glance at his bond. "This mech has been a big boy all his orns."
"Too much information, Prowler," Ratchet said to raucous slagging and all around abuse.
Prime grinned. Then he looked at the monitor above his helm. "What about Prowl?"
"He's in good shape for someone who is three decaorns sparked," Ratchet said as he turned to look at the three.
No one said a word for a moment. Then all of them did.
At once.
Loudly.
-0-Moments later
They stood staring at the monitor with Prowl's format. It highlighted a little light that was in his spark chamber. Prowl stared at it, then Ratchet. "How did this happen?" he asked.
"Well, when two mechs really love each other," Ratchet began before Prowl actually slugged him in the chassis. He bent over, then began to laugh. "That hurt, you fragger." He stood up staring at Prowl and Prime. "It happened three decaorns ago. What were you doing then? Besides fragging?"
"This is a surprise," Optimus said glancing down at his bond. "How do you feel, Prowl?" he asked as he crawled out of his surprise.
"I … I feel good. You?" Prowl asked anxiously.
"I feel wonderful," Optimus said. He grinned. "We better figure this out better. The neighbors will be talking."
"And all of them will say that Ironhide's face would look great on the body of a Prime format sparkling," Ratchet said as he was then buried under abuse.
Moments later …
They sat at the cafe curbside waiting for their drinks and Celebration cake to arrive, apropos given the circumstances. "So … how is the news sinking in?" Ratchet asked as a waiter set down their heated drinks and plates of cake, its red, white and green stripes with thick black 'frosting' tantalizing to all, especially the biggest sparkling among them, Ironhide.
Optimus glanced at Prowl who was sitting with a pensive expression. "I am fine with it. I can't speak for Prowl."
Prowl glanced at him. "I am too. I am just thinking of the separation."
"If either of these two had the bearings they thought they had, they would have that worry. Not you," Ratchet said taking a sip. "Wussies."
"You can't make me feel badly, Ratchet," Optimus said with a grin.
"No but you can fill me in. Gender if any? Format? I promise not to tell too many," Ratchet said with a chuckle. "Probably."
"We don't know yet," Prowl said. Optimus nodded. "Give us a few minutes to absorb the news first."
"You might let me know. I have to send new emails. Having the side dish sprouting while the main squeeze toils in the vineyards needs to be sent out to the hinterlands," Ratchet said just to be perverse.
The three stared at him a moment, then Prowl shook his helm. "Translation?"
"You being the side frag are now sparked. The Missus Optimus Prime is a hard working oblivious soon-to-be alcoholic when he finds out the news. I figure Springer would be glad it isn't Arcee, his slightly slutty daughter or Bumblebee, his good time boy. It makes for many promising conversations between you and him for the email leak. See?" Ratchet sat with a giant smile on his face.
"You are insane. Officially," Prowl said with a grin. "Side dish huh?"
"Yeah," Ratchet said sitting back to relax. "Probably brussel sprouts but a side dish nonetheless."
A moment of internet searching brought him another blow from Prowl. "Heal yourself, slagger," Prowl said with a grin.
"I would hit you back but you're working on what? Your second outright sparkling and your 6th overall one? You're still miles behind us, slacker. Pick up the pace," Ratchet said.
Ironhide who had slid Prowler out of his carry hold and placed the baby in his bag in the middle of the table grinned. "We're still four or five off our initial projection but what a fine sparkling we make."
Prowl took the sparkling and nestled the smiling infant in the crook of his arm. "He is. He's mine until further notice. I have to get back into the practice."
Ironhide shot him nuclear optics, then looked at his cake. He grinned, then continued to eat.
CELEBRATION CAKE! OH MY!
The break passed by happily.
-0-Elsewhere
Bluestreak hurried to the studio in Tyger Pax after leaving the Fortress and the grapevine behind. He ran to the door and opened it. Sideswipe was reading a book sprawled on a couch while Sunstreaker worked on a painting. They looked up at him along with Bob and Dawg. "Hi," Sideswipe said with a grin. "What's up?"
Blue told them.
They sat in the studio considering the situation. The sibling thing was getting out of servo. Sideswipe looked at the others. "This means another brother or sister. That would be ..." He considered the number. "There are sixteen of us in the family now, younglings if you will. Miracle, Spirit, T-bar, Rambler, you, Blue, me and Sunny, Prowler, Hero, Praxus, Orion, Sunspot, Springer, Uraya, Iacon and Kaon. Sixteen."
"Orion was the first. Amazing isn't it?" Bluestreak said as he sat back relaxing into Sunstreaker's arm. "Three femmes to thirteen mechs. Sort of normal ratio."
"Prowl and Optimus are catching up," Sunstreaker said with a grin. "They're only two behind now."
"Don't count Ironhide out. Ratchet will do whatever he wants if Ironhide whines long enough," Sideswipe said with a chuckle.
They nodded in agreement.
"This is going to be epic," Bluestreak said. No one disagreed with him.
-0-In Ops Center later
:How do you feel about this, Optimus?:
Prowl was standing at the sensor station looking over data. Prime stared at his elegant form, then looked back at his stack of datapads on the table before him. :Wonderful. You?:
:Ecstatic. We will have to tell everyone tonight:
:We will: Prime grinned. Life was good sometimes.
-0-That night
They came through the door to the Residence, the first night since the game where they didn't have a single obligation. The little mechs and Miracle were sitting on a couch watching cartoons. Bluestreak was sitting with them holding Kaon who had come to visit. "Hi," he said with a grin.
"Hi. We have something to tell you," Prowl said with a smile.
-0-TBC January 8, 2014