Chapter Nine

Pixie crawled upon the floor of the house, playing hide and seek with her Sire as Carrier was working. She bound excitedly, her recently unfurled wings perked up and bobbing. "Dada!"

Jazz remained quiet, watching Pixie on her mission to find him. The mech was hidden underneath a blanket, curled up as tightly as he can into a ball to make it seem the blanket was balled up and left there. He watched her determination, looking underneath couches and looking inside the storage of their videos, opening the door and peeking in before closing it. She sat on her pedes, wings drooping and her field went from happy to lonely. Jazz smiled softly as he carefully poked her with his field before retracting it. Pixie's wings perked up as she turned her helm, looking around, "Dada?"

She had a look of determination once more. If he wasn't on the floor, then Jazz was hiding in a higher spot. Pixie looked at the floor, thinking momentarily, before she crawled towards the coffee table and grabbed the edges. Pixie grunted as she pulled her weigh, her grip faltering and causing her to fall on her aft. She squeaked upsettingly, quite displeased. Jazz watched in curiosity as she reached for the edge of the coffee table and pulled herself back up, resting on the edge and chirping in satisfaction. The little femme wobbled around the table, holding onto it like it was her life support. She eyed the blanket, but it was away from the table...

The little femme took a small unsteady step from the table, watching her pedes as she placed one in front of the other. Slowly, but surely, Pixie wobbled her way to the couch. Smiling to herself, she reached for the blanket only to find herself squealing when Jazz poked his helm out. Pixie patted the couch, bouncing on her pedes as she laughed, "Dada! Dada!"

"Ya walked, mah lil one!" Jazz exclaimed as he lifted her once he went into a seated position. She clapped her servos as he held her at his chest before pressing kisses to his chestplates. He set her down on the floor, holding her servos and stood up, "Let's walk, 'kay, Pix?"

Pixie giggled, bouncing on her pedes. Jazz took a step forward and Pixie took two tiny ones. The mech walked her around the house and soon, Pixie could walk several steps on her own.

Now exhausted from all the walking, Pixie rested on the couch, drinking from her bottle with the blanket wrapped around her. Jazz sighed as he took a seat by his creation, picking her up and cradling her. By instinct, she pressed towards his spark, audio against his chest to listen to the gentle thrumming that slowly lulled her to recharge. Jazz smiled once she was asleep, pressing a soft kiss to her helm. She needed the rest, especially after her achievement of the day.

Jazz heard Prowl open the door late in the night and he arose from their berth, making his way towards his Praxian mate, "How was work love?"

Prowl smiled upon seeing his mate, meeting him in an embrace and he pressed a soft kiss to his lips, "Moderately well. I interrogated a few mechs in a drug case."

Jazz grinned as he looped his arms around Prowl's nape, "How did dat go?"

"They spilled their information and the case was closed due to my effective interrogation methods." Prowl showed a cheeky grin. "How was your day? I heard our little Pixie started walking."

Jazz nodded, "She can walk ay bit on 'er own now. Weh had ay day of adventures an' surprises."

Prowl smiled, leaning down to kiss his mate, "I wish I could have seen it."

"Ya have an orn off tomorrow, yeah?" Jazz asked before pressing his lips against Prowl's, closing their distance.

Prowl hummed, "That's right."

"Ya can see tomorrow."

Pixie began to awaken, cooing to herself in the morning. Her creators paused from their fondling on the kitchenette counter, both helms turning in the direction of her room. Prowl was sliding off the counter, but Jazz stopped him, setting a servo on his chest, "Ay'll git 'er, love."

Prowl smiled, but nodded as he stood up and Jazz walked towards Pixie's room. Pixie giggled, seeing her Sire lift her from the crib and she nuzzled him as Jazz pressed a soft kiss to her cheek."Ya wanna walk fer mama?"

"Mama?" Pixie cheeped as she looked around for her Carrier.

"Mama's en da kitchen, Pix. Go git 'im." Jazz said as he set her down on the floor upon her pedes. She wobbled for a moment, latching firmly on her Sire before she stabilized her footing and took off, wobbling towards the entrance of her room.

Prowl waited patiently, smiling brightly as he saw Pixie latch onto the door siding.

"Mama!" Pixie exclaimed as she let go of the siding and continued to wobble towards the familiar frame of her Carrier; Prowl knelt down and opened his arms.

"Come here, baby."

"Mama!" Pixie lost her balance a few baby steps away from Prowl, but he caught her before she could fall flat. Prowl scooped her up and held Pixie close, kissing her cheek. Pixie giggled, pecking Prowl's cheek in return.

Jazz was grinning as he approached the two, "Ain't she ay fast learner?"

The white and black mech nodded, "Five groons and she's walking. Four groons and speaking small words. I'm impressed at her growth."

"O' course she's a quick lil leaner. Her Carrier has da greatest mind out dere an' da Sire is mighty fine." said Jazz as Prowl stood up with Pixie in his arms; the little femme's systems purred loudly in satisfaction.

Prowl smiled at Jazz crookedly, "It's all in the genetics, Jazzy."

Jazz gestured at himself.

His mate shook his helm with a chuckle. Pixie pawed at Prowl's chestplates, her tanks growling and she chirped to get her Carrier's attention. Prowl's plating flicked open, sparkling chamber accessible for her; Pixie stuck in her helm and latched onto a feeding nub, suckling the energon made from Prowl's frame. His other servo stroked beneath her wings as he smiled softly, "I hope she stays little."

The black and white mech chuckled, "Eventually, she has ta grow up."

"I don't want her to. Not right now." Prowl said. He would cherish the moments he had with Pixie while she was a sparkling; time would tell when he and Jazz would have more creations.