Fic: Five Rings
Title: Five Rings
Author: Gixxer Pilot
Summary: This is just some useless bits of fluff to help get me from point to ‘A’ to point ‘B’ on my other stories, aka get over writer’s block. Ironhide learns the meaning of the Olympics from Annabelle, Sam and Mikaela.
Author’s Notes: Written during the opening ceremonies of the Vancouver Olympics and inspired by my four year old nephew who was watching the ceremonies with us. Apologies for any spelling or grammar errors. This is also my first attempt at writing a child. Hopefully it doesn’t suck too much.
Disclaimer: Transformers are not mine. Please don’t sue. Also, my prayers are with the Georgian delegation and family of luger Nodar Kumaritashvili. Though the Olympics are to be a time of peace and celebration, it puts into perspective how dangerous some of the events truly are.
========
Annabelle Lennox bounded around the lake as fast as her four-year-old legs could carry her, a flustered Sam and amused Mikaela trailing behind. Across the way, Ironhide sat in his alt mode, his scanners tuned passively toward his three human charges while he soaked up some of the sun’s warmth. The little girl burst through a thicket of bushes, yipping with delight as she skidded to a halt on the blanket spread over the ground.
“I win!” she yelled triumphantly. “You’re too slow to catch me!”
Mikaela plopped herself next to Annabelle, dusting a little dirt off her pants. “I think you might be right on that, Annabelle. You're the Hide-and-Seek master. Right Sam?”
Sam dropped in the grass next to the blanket. “I guess you are, Squirt. I’m gonna have to start cheating if I wanna catch you, I guess.” He and Mikaela shared a conspiratorial wink. “Do you want to play again? I’ll let you hide if you want.”
Annabelle rocketed to her feet. “Yeah! Start counting!”
Mikaela, taking her cue from her boyfriend, buried her face in her hands and started counting. “One, two, three…”
Sam stood, picking absently at a stray piece of grass stuck to his shirt. Dropping his voice to a low tone, he said, “I’m gonna go check on Ironhide. Someone has to make sure he’s not blowing everything to hell.”
“Language! Mommy says swear words aren’t nice!” Annabelle scolded from behind the tree.
Sam’s jaw dropped. He pointed in the blonde bundle of energy’s general direction. “How can she hear me?”
“Kids have bat ears, Sam.” Mikaela looked coy. Louder, she said, “Yeah, Annabelle. Tell Uncle Sam not say bad words.”
“Swearing’s not nice. It’s not lady. It’s not lady,” she paused, unsure of the word.
“Ladylike?” Mikaela helpfully supplied.
“Yep! Ladylike! It’s not ladylike.”
Sam laughed, leaned down to one knee and smudged a little dirt on Annabelle’s forehead. “So, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a lady, then!”
“You’re not pretty enough!” Annabelle squealed and squirmed in delight as Sam began tickling the little girl without mercy.
Sam and Mikaela laughed right along with her. “Say ‘Uncle’ and I’ll stop!”
Through her tears of laughter, Annabelle surrendered. “Uncle! Uncle!” Regaining her breath, the four year old bundle of energy turned her short attention span toward the Topkick parked a few yards away. Grabbing Sam by the hand, she began pulling him toward the truck. “Hurry up, Sam! The ‘lymics are on!”
“Hey, I forgot about that. The opening ceremonies are tonight,” Mikaela added. She looked at her watch. I don’t think we’re going to make it back in time, sweetie. They started an hour ago.”
Annabelle’s face fell momentarily and then lit up. “Well, what about ‘Hide? He can get it on TV for me! I’m gonna go ask him!” Before either Sam or Mikaela could stop her, Annabelle bounded off in the direction of the Autobot.
“No! Annabelle, wait!” Sam didn’t quite know how to tell a four year old it probably wasn’t the wisest of ideas to ask Ironhide to hack a satellite so she could watch the Olympics. Sighing, Mikaela began folding up the blanket and packing the cooler of the picnic items.
The youngest Lennox reached the truck. She opened the door and climbed into her designated booster seat. In as serious of a voice she could muster, Annabelle asked, “’Hide. I wanna watch the ‘lympics. Can you do that?”
The truck shook momentarily on its axles as Ironhide woke from a light recharge. “Annabelle? What is it you want?”
The little girl crossed her arms over her chest. “I wanna watch the ‘lympics, and ‘Kaela says we won’t make it back home in time. I know you can do smart people stuff and make it so I can watch it here.”
Ironhide grumbled lowly. He had not been sparked for used as an entertainment device, babysitter or a chauffer. He was a weapon of war, and anything less was an insult to his effectiveness. But, for some unknown reason, the tiny sparkling of Will and Sarah had found a way to burrow under the onion like layers of his emotional walls and find herself a nice little home in his spark. He’d do anything for her, and she was beginning to realize it. Still, he tried his level best to act put out when she made a request. He still had pride.
Sam and Mikaela approached the big Autobot. “Sorry, ‘Hide. She got away from us.”
Ironhide harrumphed. “See that it doesn’t happen again.” He noticed the cooler in Sam’s hand and the blanket and toys in Mikaela’s. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah. Missy here wants to watch the opening ceremonies for the Vancouver Olympics, so if we hurry, we might be able to catch the tail end of it. I told her not to expect to see a lot of it, though.” Mikaela shot a warning glance toward Annabelle.
Ironhide cycled his vents. “She asked me to stream it into my cab on her view screen. I could do that, you know.” As an afterthought, he added, “It would be safer that way. I wouldn’t have to drive so fast.”
The teens shared a knowing look. Annabelle had the gruff, profane, borderline crazy black mech wrapped around her tiny little finger. Sam situated the cooler on the floor space next to Annabelle. “When have you ever been concerned with driving too fast, ‘Hide?”
Ironhide’s vents gave a choked wheeze, the Weapons Specialist’s version of an uncomfortable cough. “I don’t wish to endanger the life of Sarah and Will’s sparkling.”
Mikaela laughed. “No, you just don’t want to deal with an angry Sarah!”
Silence answered Mikaela’s statement.
“Fair enough. Let’s go, you guys,” Sam said as they piled into Ironhide for the two-hour ride home.
Annabelle sat, transfixed at the lights, colors and sounds spilling out of the smallish screen embedded in the headrest of Ironhide’s driver’s seat. She watched as each country’s delegation filed into the stadium, the athletes beaming with pride.
“’Kaela? What’s a ‘standing vaction?’” Annabelle asked, her head tilted to the side as she picked at a pebble stuck in her shoe.
Mikaela’s heart sank. She knew what had happened earlier in the day on the luge track, and hoped she wouldn’t have to explain it to Annabelle. “It’s a ‘standing ovation’, honey, and it’s a sign of respect.”
Annabelle seemed to process it, and then said, “Oh. Then why are the people from Georgia crying?”
Sighing, the dark haired teen turned in Ironhide’s passenger seat. “There was an accident today in one of the events. Someone was practicing, and he crashed very hard into a pole. He was hurt so badly that he didn’t wake up.”
“They couldn’t help him? There have to be tons of doctors all over there!” the little girl asked.
“No, honey, they couldn’t, even with the best doctors.”
“Well, maybe Ratchet should go up there. He could have helped.”
Mikaela laid her hand on Annabelle’s thigh. “Anna, I don’t think even old Ratchet could have helped him.”
“So then why are the people from Georgia crying?” she asked.
“The man who was hurt was from their country. It’s a little country near Russia, not the state you’re thinking of in our country.”
Annabelle chewed on her lower lip. “So the standing ovaction is like a military salute? Because my daddy taught me how I do it and why I do it!” Mikeala chuckled as Annabelle fired off a perfect salute in her booster chair, the little girl completely unaware of the profound figurative correctness of her action. The older girl made a mental note to discuss it with the Major upon their return to the Lennox home. Mikaela watched as the ceremony progressed, relieved Annabelle didn't ask more questions she dreaded answering.
Part of the glory of being four, Annabelle didn’t understand the enormity of the conversation she just shared with Mikaela and went right back to watching the ceremony with awe. She bounced right along with the up-tempo performances. A few minutes later, she started air fiddling, imitating the performers during that particular number. Mikaela surreptitiously snapped a couple pictures and a video with her camera to show Will and Sarah later.
Ironhide’s gruff voice cut through the speaker system again a while later. “I require clarification.”
Mikaela bunched her face up in confusion. “On what?”
“The Olympics. What’s the point? I don’t understand. It’s just a sporting event.”
“It’s not just a sporting event, ‘Hide. It’s a lot more than that,” Mikaela answered.
The teens shifted in their seats, making themselves comfortable. This was likely going to be on of those conversations, the long ones in which ‘Hide played twenty questions. Sam adjusted his seat belt. “Okay, shoot.”
“Why do your people take part in this…competition,” he paused, presumably to check the internet, “Every four years?”
Mikeala contemplated her words. How does one explain the Olympics to a being from another world? “The Olympics are an international event. Nearly every major sport has a World Championship every year, but it’s not the Olympics. It’s special.”
“Yes, but why?” Ironhide asked again. “I’ve researched it, but I still don’t fully understand. I need a human’s input.”
Sam interjected. “Well, like Mikaela said, it’s special, and part of what makes it special is the fact that it only comes around every four years. When they’re little, most athletes dream of competing in the Olympics and winning that gold medal. For a sportsman, there’s nothing better. There’s no higher goal.”
“But, that’s not all there is about the Olympics. Part of it is bringing the world together through sport. It seems to be the great equalizer, something most people think is kind of universal,” Mikaela added.
There was a pause from the Topkick. “But I still don’t understand the need for the fanfare. If you do have international competitions of these sports every year, then what makes this one so special?”
“It’s just being there. I wish I could explain this better to you, ‘Hide. One of the cool things about the Olympics is that everyone is supposed to put aside their differences in politics and policy and just compete. It’s supposed to be something innocent and pure, though it unfortunately doesn’t always happen that way.”
Sam scoffed. “Yeah. Google ‘Marion Jones’ and you’ll see what I mean. Cheater.”
Mikaela spoke again. “But, for the most part, it really doesn’t happen that way. She was an exception rather than the rule. Most athletes are clean, but it’s a few bad apples spoil the whole bunch. The Olympics are supposed to be about something like North and South Korea. They normally agree on next to nothing and couldn’t be more different. But yet, their delegations have marched together in the past.”
“And, Afghanistan, Iran and Iraq are finally in the Olympics, even after all the fighting and war in that region,” Sam supplied. He paused to listen as the commentators talked about the torch relay.
Ironhide was beginning to understand though he still thought Earth was such a strange planet. Humans could fight over the most trivial of matters, but all it took for the world to get along for at least a couple of weeks was a gigantic sporting event.
“And this torch relay? What is that?”
“It’s another gesture of goodwill. The flame itself is a symbol of the Games, and the relay carries the torch from Greece, the origins of the Olympics, to the host city. It’s just ironic that the torch relay was introduced by the regime of one of the most evil men in history, Adolf Hitler,” Mikeala amended.
Ironhide quickly Googled ‘Hitler’ and shuddered involuntarily. “I guess that in itself proves your point, Mikaela.”
Mikaela smiled. “See? I have my moments of brilliance.”
“And the person who lights the torch is usually noteworthy to the host nation. My bet for Vancouver goes on Gretzky.”
Mikaela turned to her boyfriend. “You think, Sam?”
He scoffed. “Who else would it be? The Great One? Four Stanley Cups? Countless records? What other Canadian is that famous?”
“Good point.”
Ironhide went silent, digesting all the information laid out before him. Perhaps if the inhabitants of Cybertron had been able to put aside their differences as the Autobots’ human counterparts did, maybe his world would still exist. It was a long shot, as the weapons specialist couldn’t see Starscream or Soundwave playing fair in the name of sport, but it gave him something to think about.
“I called your race ‘primitive and violent’ when Sector Seven captured Bumblebee,” Ironhide said.
“That’s not always wrong, ‘Hide. We can be,” Mikaela answered.
“Prime told me that he thought humans were capable of compassion. I didn’t believe it at the time, and no amount of convincing from Optimus was going to change my mind.” The truck cycled his vents once again. “Maybe I was wrong.”
Sam and Mikaela’s eyebrows shot up to their respective hairlines. Ironhide was admitting he was wrong?
Sam scratched the side of his head. “Uh, ‘Hide? You feeling okay, big guy?”
Ironhide rolled his optics. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m apologizing here! And for Primus’ sake, stop petting my seat! It’s…unmanly.”
Sam pulled his hand back as if it had been burned from the leather of Ironhide’s driver’s seat. It had been a subconscious motion of comfort when the young man thought his Autobot friend was glitching. “Sorry! Didn’t mean it!”
Mikaela giggled into her hands. “Well, I think it’s very nice of you to acknowledge your judgment error. Thank you, Ironhide.”
Ironhide grunted. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, femme. I think humans are still violent and primitive, but just a little less than before. You’ve redeemed yourselves slightly in the eyes of and old warrior.”
Sam shrugged. “Beggars can’t be choosers, right?”
“Indeed,” the Topkick responded.
The four fell silent, Annabelle still engrossed by the replay Ironhide was feeding into her monitor while the older beings processed the information they learned. After a few minutes of blissful silence, it was Ironhide who broke the calm.
“Now who is this ‘Great One’ you keep talking about?”
Mikaela rolled her eyes. “Ironhide, don’t you know anything about hockey?”
--FIN--
Author: Gixxer Pilot
Summary: This is just some useless bits of fluff to help get me from point to ‘A’ to point ‘B’ on my other stories, aka get over writer’s block. Ironhide learns the meaning of the Olympics from Annabelle, Sam and Mikaela.
Author’s Notes: Written during the opening ceremonies of the Vancouver Olympics and inspired by my four year old nephew who was watching the ceremonies with us. Apologies for any spelling or grammar errors. This is also my first attempt at writing a child. Hopefully it doesn’t suck too much.
Disclaimer: Transformers are not mine. Please don’t sue. Also, my prayers are with the Georgian delegation and family of luger Nodar Kumaritashvili. Though the Olympics are to be a time of peace and celebration, it puts into perspective how dangerous some of the events truly are.
========
Annabelle Lennox bounded around the lake as fast as her four-year-old legs could carry her, a flustered Sam and amused Mikaela trailing behind. Across the way, Ironhide sat in his alt mode, his scanners tuned passively toward his three human charges while he soaked up some of the sun’s warmth. The little girl burst through a thicket of bushes, yipping with delight as she skidded to a halt on the blanket spread over the ground.
“I win!” she yelled triumphantly. “You’re too slow to catch me!”
Mikaela plopped herself next to Annabelle, dusting a little dirt off her pants. “I think you might be right on that, Annabelle. You're the Hide-and-Seek master. Right Sam?”
Sam dropped in the grass next to the blanket. “I guess you are, Squirt. I’m gonna have to start cheating if I wanna catch you, I guess.” He and Mikaela shared a conspiratorial wink. “Do you want to play again? I’ll let you hide if you want.”
Annabelle rocketed to her feet. “Yeah! Start counting!”
Mikaela, taking her cue from her boyfriend, buried her face in her hands and started counting. “One, two, three…”
Sam stood, picking absently at a stray piece of grass stuck to his shirt. Dropping his voice to a low tone, he said, “I’m gonna go check on Ironhide. Someone has to make sure he’s not blowing everything to hell.”
“Language! Mommy says swear words aren’t nice!” Annabelle scolded from behind the tree.
Sam’s jaw dropped. He pointed in the blonde bundle of energy’s general direction. “How can she hear me?”
“Kids have bat ears, Sam.” Mikaela looked coy. Louder, she said, “Yeah, Annabelle. Tell Uncle Sam not say bad words.”
“Swearing’s not nice. It’s not lady. It’s not lady,” she paused, unsure of the word.
“Ladylike?” Mikaela helpfully supplied.
“Yep! Ladylike! It’s not ladylike.”
Sam laughed, leaned down to one knee and smudged a little dirt on Annabelle’s forehead. “So, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a lady, then!”
“You’re not pretty enough!” Annabelle squealed and squirmed in delight as Sam began tickling the little girl without mercy.
Sam and Mikaela laughed right along with her. “Say ‘Uncle’ and I’ll stop!”
Through her tears of laughter, Annabelle surrendered. “Uncle! Uncle!” Regaining her breath, the four year old bundle of energy turned her short attention span toward the Topkick parked a few yards away. Grabbing Sam by the hand, she began pulling him toward the truck. “Hurry up, Sam! The ‘lymics are on!”
“Hey, I forgot about that. The opening ceremonies are tonight,” Mikaela added. She looked at her watch. I don’t think we’re going to make it back in time, sweetie. They started an hour ago.”
Annabelle’s face fell momentarily and then lit up. “Well, what about ‘Hide? He can get it on TV for me! I’m gonna go ask him!” Before either Sam or Mikaela could stop her, Annabelle bounded off in the direction of the Autobot.
“No! Annabelle, wait!” Sam didn’t quite know how to tell a four year old it probably wasn’t the wisest of ideas to ask Ironhide to hack a satellite so she could watch the Olympics. Sighing, Mikaela began folding up the blanket and packing the cooler of the picnic items.
The youngest Lennox reached the truck. She opened the door and climbed into her designated booster seat. In as serious of a voice she could muster, Annabelle asked, “’Hide. I wanna watch the ‘lympics. Can you do that?”
The truck shook momentarily on its axles as Ironhide woke from a light recharge. “Annabelle? What is it you want?”
The little girl crossed her arms over her chest. “I wanna watch the ‘lympics, and ‘Kaela says we won’t make it back home in time. I know you can do smart people stuff and make it so I can watch it here.”
Ironhide grumbled lowly. He had not been sparked for used as an entertainment device, babysitter or a chauffer. He was a weapon of war, and anything less was an insult to his effectiveness. But, for some unknown reason, the tiny sparkling of Will and Sarah had found a way to burrow under the onion like layers of his emotional walls and find herself a nice little home in his spark. He’d do anything for her, and she was beginning to realize it. Still, he tried his level best to act put out when she made a request. He still had pride.
Sam and Mikaela approached the big Autobot. “Sorry, ‘Hide. She got away from us.”
Ironhide harrumphed. “See that it doesn’t happen again.” He noticed the cooler in Sam’s hand and the blanket and toys in Mikaela’s. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah. Missy here wants to watch the opening ceremonies for the Vancouver Olympics, so if we hurry, we might be able to catch the tail end of it. I told her not to expect to see a lot of it, though.” Mikaela shot a warning glance toward Annabelle.
Ironhide cycled his vents. “She asked me to stream it into my cab on her view screen. I could do that, you know.” As an afterthought, he added, “It would be safer that way. I wouldn’t have to drive so fast.”
The teens shared a knowing look. Annabelle had the gruff, profane, borderline crazy black mech wrapped around her tiny little finger. Sam situated the cooler on the floor space next to Annabelle. “When have you ever been concerned with driving too fast, ‘Hide?”
Ironhide’s vents gave a choked wheeze, the Weapons Specialist’s version of an uncomfortable cough. “I don’t wish to endanger the life of Sarah and Will’s sparkling.”
Mikaela laughed. “No, you just don’t want to deal with an angry Sarah!”
Silence answered Mikaela’s statement.
“Fair enough. Let’s go, you guys,” Sam said as they piled into Ironhide for the two-hour ride home.
Annabelle sat, transfixed at the lights, colors and sounds spilling out of the smallish screen embedded in the headrest of Ironhide’s driver’s seat. She watched as each country’s delegation filed into the stadium, the athletes beaming with pride.
“’Kaela? What’s a ‘standing vaction?’” Annabelle asked, her head tilted to the side as she picked at a pebble stuck in her shoe.
Mikaela’s heart sank. She knew what had happened earlier in the day on the luge track, and hoped she wouldn’t have to explain it to Annabelle. “It’s a ‘standing ovation’, honey, and it’s a sign of respect.”
Annabelle seemed to process it, and then said, “Oh. Then why are the people from Georgia crying?”
Sighing, the dark haired teen turned in Ironhide’s passenger seat. “There was an accident today in one of the events. Someone was practicing, and he crashed very hard into a pole. He was hurt so badly that he didn’t wake up.”
“They couldn’t help him? There have to be tons of doctors all over there!” the little girl asked.
“No, honey, they couldn’t, even with the best doctors.”
“Well, maybe Ratchet should go up there. He could have helped.”
Mikaela laid her hand on Annabelle’s thigh. “Anna, I don’t think even old Ratchet could have helped him.”
“So then why are the people from Georgia crying?” she asked.
“The man who was hurt was from their country. It’s a little country near Russia, not the state you’re thinking of in our country.”
Annabelle chewed on her lower lip. “So the standing ovaction is like a military salute? Because my daddy taught me how I do it and why I do it!” Mikeala chuckled as Annabelle fired off a perfect salute in her booster chair, the little girl completely unaware of the profound figurative correctness of her action. The older girl made a mental note to discuss it with the Major upon their return to the Lennox home. Mikaela watched as the ceremony progressed, relieved Annabelle didn't ask more questions she dreaded answering.
Part of the glory of being four, Annabelle didn’t understand the enormity of the conversation she just shared with Mikaela and went right back to watching the ceremony with awe. She bounced right along with the up-tempo performances. A few minutes later, she started air fiddling, imitating the performers during that particular number. Mikaela surreptitiously snapped a couple pictures and a video with her camera to show Will and Sarah later.
Ironhide’s gruff voice cut through the speaker system again a while later. “I require clarification.”
Mikaela bunched her face up in confusion. “On what?”
“The Olympics. What’s the point? I don’t understand. It’s just a sporting event.”
“It’s not just a sporting event, ‘Hide. It’s a lot more than that,” Mikaela answered.
The teens shifted in their seats, making themselves comfortable. This was likely going to be on of those conversations, the long ones in which ‘Hide played twenty questions. Sam adjusted his seat belt. “Okay, shoot.”
“Why do your people take part in this…competition,” he paused, presumably to check the internet, “Every four years?”
Mikeala contemplated her words. How does one explain the Olympics to a being from another world? “The Olympics are an international event. Nearly every major sport has a World Championship every year, but it’s not the Olympics. It’s special.”
“Yes, but why?” Ironhide asked again. “I’ve researched it, but I still don’t fully understand. I need a human’s input.”
Sam interjected. “Well, like Mikaela said, it’s special, and part of what makes it special is the fact that it only comes around every four years. When they’re little, most athletes dream of competing in the Olympics and winning that gold medal. For a sportsman, there’s nothing better. There’s no higher goal.”
“But, that’s not all there is about the Olympics. Part of it is bringing the world together through sport. It seems to be the great equalizer, something most people think is kind of universal,” Mikaela added.
There was a pause from the Topkick. “But I still don’t understand the need for the fanfare. If you do have international competitions of these sports every year, then what makes this one so special?”
“It’s just being there. I wish I could explain this better to you, ‘Hide. One of the cool things about the Olympics is that everyone is supposed to put aside their differences in politics and policy and just compete. It’s supposed to be something innocent and pure, though it unfortunately doesn’t always happen that way.”
Sam scoffed. “Yeah. Google ‘Marion Jones’ and you’ll see what I mean. Cheater.”
Mikaela spoke again. “But, for the most part, it really doesn’t happen that way. She was an exception rather than the rule. Most athletes are clean, but it’s a few bad apples spoil the whole bunch. The Olympics are supposed to be about something like North and South Korea. They normally agree on next to nothing and couldn’t be more different. But yet, their delegations have marched together in the past.”
“And, Afghanistan, Iran and Iraq are finally in the Olympics, even after all the fighting and war in that region,” Sam supplied. He paused to listen as the commentators talked about the torch relay.
Ironhide was beginning to understand though he still thought Earth was such a strange planet. Humans could fight over the most trivial of matters, but all it took for the world to get along for at least a couple of weeks was a gigantic sporting event.
“And this torch relay? What is that?”
“It’s another gesture of goodwill. The flame itself is a symbol of the Games, and the relay carries the torch from Greece, the origins of the Olympics, to the host city. It’s just ironic that the torch relay was introduced by the regime of one of the most evil men in history, Adolf Hitler,” Mikeala amended.
Ironhide quickly Googled ‘Hitler’ and shuddered involuntarily. “I guess that in itself proves your point, Mikaela.”
Mikaela smiled. “See? I have my moments of brilliance.”
“And the person who lights the torch is usually noteworthy to the host nation. My bet for Vancouver goes on Gretzky.”
Mikaela turned to her boyfriend. “You think, Sam?”
He scoffed. “Who else would it be? The Great One? Four Stanley Cups? Countless records? What other Canadian is that famous?”
“Good point.”
Ironhide went silent, digesting all the information laid out before him. Perhaps if the inhabitants of Cybertron had been able to put aside their differences as the Autobots’ human counterparts did, maybe his world would still exist. It was a long shot, as the weapons specialist couldn’t see Starscream or Soundwave playing fair in the name of sport, but it gave him something to think about.
“I called your race ‘primitive and violent’ when Sector Seven captured Bumblebee,” Ironhide said.
“That’s not always wrong, ‘Hide. We can be,” Mikaela answered.
“Prime told me that he thought humans were capable of compassion. I didn’t believe it at the time, and no amount of convincing from Optimus was going to change my mind.” The truck cycled his vents once again. “Maybe I was wrong.”
Sam and Mikaela’s eyebrows shot up to their respective hairlines. Ironhide was admitting he was wrong?
Sam scratched the side of his head. “Uh, ‘Hide? You feeling okay, big guy?”
Ironhide rolled his optics. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m apologizing here! And for Primus’ sake, stop petting my seat! It’s…unmanly.”
Sam pulled his hand back as if it had been burned from the leather of Ironhide’s driver’s seat. It had been a subconscious motion of comfort when the young man thought his Autobot friend was glitching. “Sorry! Didn’t mean it!”
Mikaela giggled into her hands. “Well, I think it’s very nice of you to acknowledge your judgment error. Thank you, Ironhide.”
Ironhide grunted. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, femme. I think humans are still violent and primitive, but just a little less than before. You’ve redeemed yourselves slightly in the eyes of and old warrior.”
Sam shrugged. “Beggars can’t be choosers, right?”
“Indeed,” the Topkick responded.
The four fell silent, Annabelle still engrossed by the replay Ironhide was feeding into her monitor while the older beings processed the information they learned. After a few minutes of blissful silence, it was Ironhide who broke the calm.
“Now who is this ‘Great One’ you keep talking about?”
Mikaela rolled her eyes. “Ironhide, don’t you know anything about hockey?”
--FIN--