Title: Megatron's Return

Prompt: Bullet

Galaxy onlined one optic as the sound of their obnoxiously high pitched doorbell echoed through the house, disrupting her afternoon recharge. If that was one of her friends, she was going to offline them. With a heavy sigh, she lifted her helm and stared at her younger brother. The silver mech was hunched over in a chair by the end of the couch, engrossed in a handheld video game. His wings - the only trace of red on his slight frame, save the soft glow of his optics - would flutter and droop, reflecting his victory or failure.

Sensing his sister's gaze, Quasar glanced up from his screen just long enough to frown and say, "No."

"Uuugh, come on Quasy!"

"No."

"Galaxy." Their mother's voice carried from the kitchen, over the noise of a babbling sparkling, and cut off their argument, "Answer the door."

Galaxy was less than pleased, but her Carrier's word was law, so she rolled off the couch and onto her pedes. Quasar stuck his glossa out at her, and she made a mental note to 'accidentally' magnetize him later. She rolled her optics as the doorbell rang again and hurried down the hall, heeled pedes clicking against the metal floor.

"Primus, I'm coming! You know, patience is a vir -" Galaxy fell silent as the door slid open. Her optics travelled up the massive silver mech before her, locking on the face and tainted optics. With a snarl, she shifted into a defensive position, claws bared and wings erect. "You!"

Megatron observed the young femme, noting the familiar sharpness of her features. Her chassis and skirt glimmered the same shade of purple Nova bore, while her limbs and servos were clearly as silver as her father. He noted that though her secondary wings were still silver, her larger wings each sported a new streak of red to match her crest. All in all, she didn't look much different from the sparkling he remembered from the Nemesis, despite being significantly taller.

"Hello, femmeling." Megatron spoke softly, shifting the bundle in his arms as he did so, "You have your Creator's faceplates . . . and his attitude."

Galaxy didn't really bother to respond to that, because the bundle started clicking and cooing, drawing her attention to it. Galaxy's jaw and wings dropped. Cradled comfortably in Megatron's arms was a tiny gold faced sparkling, chewing on the tarp he was wrapped in.

"Who?"

"His name is Bullet." Megatron's tone became serious. "Are your creators here?"

"Mom! Dad!" Galaxy shouted, taking several steps backwards.

Nova came rushing down the hall in a klick, hearing her daughter's distress. She snarled at Megatron, fully prepared to attack the larger mech, until she noticed what he was holding. She nearly fell over from the shock. "You have a sparkling."

"His name is Bullet." Galaxy supplied, tone disbelieving.

"Galaxy."

The femme turned her helm, not all surprised to see her father had followed her mother and was now storming over to put himself between Megatron and the femmes.

"Take your brothers upstairs." Starscream ordered, eyeing Megatron and the sparkling warily, "Your mother and I need to talk with our . . . guest."

"Yes, Dad." Galaxy murmured, uncharacteristically obedient. She took one last curious look at Bullet before she fled.

Whoo, new sparkling! You also get a description of Galaxy and Quasar, and I guess Nova and Starscream have another kid way in the future. This is post-war and takes place on a rebuilt Cybertron. As you can see, Megatron has landed himself in quite the situation.

Who is Bullet's other Creator you ask? Is it a Bot or a Con we know and love? An OC? Well . . . I don't know. But he's cute.

I also enjoy teenage Galaxy. She's fun.