Have more fic

Nov 20, 2010 08:57



Sari is perched on Cyclonus's lap, and she looks ready to vibrate off of it with irritation. The jet himself is sitting there as bland and expressionless as always, save for the giant bright red bows tied at the base of his head fins. Optimus makes a note to not allow Sari to decorate him when she's unhappy.

Sitting across from her, Optimus tilts his head. "I'm fairly sure this is why the newsbots think you're dating him."

She glares at him. "They can think that all they want, but that doesn't stop them from being wrong." She looks up at the jet. "I was thinking about painting rainbows on his wings, like where seekers put their symbols." She pats the mech on the cheek, getting little more than a weak glare, "Wouldn't that be the best thing ever? Maybe you'll get mad enough at me to say something other than how little you care, and wish we had left you to rust in your cell."

Cyclonus doesn't move, "I don't ca-"

She talks over him,"I know. That's why you don't get to vote. While if you were Spittor, you would. Since he actually gives a damn."

Optimus gives her a concerned look, "Spittor cares about Ultra and my courting?"

"He cares because I talk about it to him when I go visit."

"Does he approve of it?"

Sari crosses her arms, "I am so not answering that. You can just go, you know, do whatever it is you're supposed to be doing. Watch Ultra try and prove he deserves to be in our family." She mutters, "Which he totally doesn't. Old pervert."

Optimus sighs, walking over to Bulkhead, seeing Sari fluff up Cyclonus's bow as he does so. Sitting next to the green bot, he smiles. "Been awhile, Bulkhead. Having fun building space bridges?"

"Oh, definitely, Optimus," Bulkhead grins. "I've been doing my best to get a better one set up near Earth - so we can visit more easily, you know? But it's gonna be a while before I can convince them to let me build it."

"I'm sure you'll manage it, Bulkhead." Optimus reassures him, patting his shoulder. "Have you made any new friends out there? It must get rather lonely."

Bulkhead rubs the back of his helmet, "Well, uh, you see," he trails off. Is that a blush on his cheeks? "The entire crew is really nice, and great to work with. But I like to talk to this femme."

Optimus's optic's widen, "Who is she?"

Bulkhead gives him an upset look, "You aren't going to try scaring her off, are you? I have to work with her! I don't expect her to like me back or anything."

He puts up his servos placatingly, "I won't. I promise. I just want to know who she is, maybe talk to her."

The larger mech gives him a dirty look, "Every single bot I've liked and you and the rest of the team just 'talked' to, took off without looking back. I just like talking to her, and I don't expect anything."

"We won't scare her off, Bulkhead," he consoles, trying to smile innocently. "But if she's your friend, she should meet us. You don't hide your friends from your family."

Bulkhead narrows his optics, "You do when your family casually threatens to rip their arms off."

"I promise I won't threaten her, Bulkhead."

Bulkhead looks away, "And that's not a promise that no one will, Optimus. I'm not telling you her name, since you'll just have someone else do it."

He's probably shared her name with Bumblebee. Optimus ducks his head, "Alright, I'll stop asking. It's good that you're making friends out there."

The larger bot eyes him suspiciously, "Yeah. It's nice. Still miss you all a lot, though."

Optimus chats with him for a few kliks longer, before drifting away. He's going to find out the name of that femme from Bee.

Heading straight to the minibot, he sits next to the mech, "Did you know Bulkhead ilkes a femme on his team? Would he have given you a name?"

Bee gives him a confused look, "He does? I wouldn't know, anyway. There's, like, four femmes on his team."

Optimus gives him a confused look, "So there are only two mechs in a team of six?"

"Yeah, I thought it was kinda weird too," Bee keeps a firm hold on Firefly. "Lucky mechs, I guess."

Fingers tap contemplatively against his armor. "Has Bulkhead spoken about one of the femmes more than the others?"

"Uh," Bumblebee winces when Firefly tugs on one of his horns, "Don't do that, Firefly." He bats the servo away and turns back to Optimus, "Maybe. I remember him talking about a Crumplezone a lot."

Optimus smiles, "Then I'll be sure to ask to talk to her. Want to join me in that?"

Bee moves out of Firefly's reach, "Sure, gives me something to do that isn't just stupid errands anyone can run."

"You ought to be thankful that your attention span is less than stellar, or you'd end up under a pile of datapad reports that threatens to consume you each solar cycle." Optimus shudders. Even with delegating, he had ten times more pads to review than he'd ever wanted. Upper management was a nightmarish place to be at times.

Bee shrugs at him, "They tried that, remember?"

He nods, they had found the minibot curled up on pile of datapads like some bizarre nest. "And you didn't last through more than three before you gave up."

"They were so boring, bossbot. What did you expect?"

"That you might have finished at least a single solar cycle's worth of work before giving up?"

Bumblebee scoffs, and shoves Firefly into Optimus's arms. "I'm gonna find Blurr. You have just volunteered yourself to watch my sparkling."

Optimus rolls his optics after Bee, and the little bot in his arms gives him a hug, "Op-ti-mus."

Bumping foreheads, he murmurs, "Fi-er-fly."

The sparkling tilts his head hopefully, "Candy?"

"I don't carry candy around with me, Firefly. Are your parents still feeding it to you?"

"Yes?" the sparkling ducks his head, clearly lying.

Optimus pats one of his little wings, "They've stopped giving it whenever you ask, I bet. Especially if Blurr's been helping keep you fueled."

Firefly shifts the wing away from his servos. "Blurr gives yucky energon."

"Blurr gives you energon that helps you grow. I bet if you weren't being given that, you'd only end up as big as Bee, rather than almost as big as Sunstorm. Do you want to be big?"

The sparkling gives him a thoughtful look, "Bigger than you?"

He shrugs, "Very likely. I'm kind of in the middle on the size scale of Autobots, and you are a seeker."

"Still gross," the sparkling makes a face.

"The faster you grow, the sooner you'll be able to switch to a normal energon blend," Optimus advises, shifting Firefly on his lap. It's good practice for his future; taking care of a sparkling like this. Later on, he should work up the courage to ask Cliffjumper what it was like to carry a sparkling. Just in case.

Firefly curls up on him, and he simply pets the little mech's back. He's soon joined by Ultra, who kisses him softly. "Just talked to your family, Optimus."

Leaning against his mech, he asks, "And what do you think?"

Ultra sighs, "Sari still doesn't like me. I worry she will vote no."

"It doesn't have to be a unanimous vote this time, Ultra," Optimus glances over to make sure that Sari isn't watching, and kisses Ultra again. "And if she votes no now, she'll have the rest of our lives to learn to love you." A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and he rests his servos on Ultra's chest. "I certainly have no intention of losing either of you. And we have a very, very long time."

Ultra nuzzles into the back of his neck, and pets Firefly, "I want her to like me now, though. Not just have her tolerate me just because you asked her to."

Firefly climbs out of his lap, and into Ultra's guns as he talks, "She does seem to be warming up to you." Ultra gives him a disbelieving look, "A bit. She isn't throwing anything at you for being next to me."

"I assumed that was because she was distracted by Cyclonus."

Optimus looks over, and Sari is rather distracted. She has pulled ribbon from somewhere; he'd guess her subspace, but she still hates using it. Cyclonus now had red bows dangling from every possible place she could tie one on. It was ... somewhere between amusing and horrifying.

"I think that's... part of it." He watches as she dives into Cyclonus' sub-space to pull out a datapad, and clmbs on the mech's shoulder before starting to read it aloud. "You talked to everyone already?"

Ultra kisses him softly, "I could go talk to more if you want me to."

Kissing his bot back, he smiles, "You could ask Bulkhead how he likes working, and if he mentions a femme he likes, try to get her name without seeming too interested. You may want to talk to a few other bots before going to him, though."

Ultra breaks out into a wide grin, "Bulkhead has a crush?" He pulls Optimus closer, "And you plan on investigating the femme in question?"

"Not as such," he murmurs, making sure Sari isn't watching before planting a small kiss on one of Ultra's headfins. "I simply feel it is important to make sure that Bulkhead's work team is made of good mechs and femmes."

Ultra's engine purrs at the kiss, and chuckles softly, "If that's what you want to call it, Optimus." His mech stands up, kissing him softly, "I'll go talk some more."

His spark is warm in his chest as he watches Ultra walk away, amused at Firefly curled up in the guns. Kicking his peds absently, he gets up after a klick, heading over to Ratchet and Arcee.

"Optimus," Arcee greets him cheerfully, pulling him down to sit beside them. "I was just telling Ratchet that we ought to chaperon you on another date soon." She winks at him, "It won't be long until you're allowed to go on dates all by yourselves, after all."

Ratchet grumbles, "That's Arcee's way of saying there's a play she wants to watch, and we all get to go along with her."

Optimus smiles, absolutely certain that Ratchet wants to go too, but is just giving him a way out. "I'd love to go, and I'm sure Ultra will, too. Has he come to talk to you?"

Arcee nods, "And he'd already agreed as long as you did, too."

"Then we'll find a time and make it work," Optimus promises his friends. He enjoys going out with them; they're far less likely to slap his servos. Well, Ratchet is, in any case. Arcee is a bit of a traditionalist, it seems, but she at least allows them the actual limits of the courtship.

He talks with them for a little while longer, wondering if Ultra will join him, and he could sneak into his bot's lap. Instead, he watches absently as Ultra slowly makes his way to Bulkhead. Carefully not looking at them, he asks Ratchet, "Did you know that Bulkhead has a bot he likes?" Ratchet's optics start to snap to the bot in question, but Optimus continues, "Don't look, I'm trying to get Ultra to confirm who I think it is."

Arcee gives him a sharp look, "And why are you doing that, Optimus?"

He hunches in on himself a bit, defensively, "Is it wrong to want to keep a friend safe? We only want to make sure this femme doesn't plan on breaking Bulkhead's spark."

"Of course," she knocks the side of his helmet with her fist, "you fragging glitches. You'll just run the poor thing off."

"You don't know that, Arcee."

She glares at him, "He's a grown bot, Optimus. He can take care of himself, and you know it. At the very least promise me you won't threaten the bot."

Optimus smiles, "I already promised Bulkhead that, so I have no problem doing the same for you."

"I'm going to have to track all of you down and get every one of you to agree to that, aren't I?" At Ratchet and Optimus's shared innocent look, Arcee covers her face with her palm. "I can't believe you bots sometimes, I swear. Did Primus create you without a tact program?"

Optimus scoots away from her, out of hitting range. "I only want him safe."

She glares at him, "Like the Pit you do. He's allowed to be happy, Optimus. When you do track this bot down, you will be nice about it."

"Yes, ma'am," he mutters. He didn't enjoy being made to feel like a misbehaving sparkling. A warm servo on his shoulder brings the smile back to his face. "Ultra."

He's pulled onto Ultra's lap, "Bulkhead spoke at some length about his team. But he spoke most often of a femme named Crumplezone. A neutral bot hired because of her specialties in bridge building."

Melting into his mech's hold, he takes Ultra's servo in his own, squeezing softly, "Then we will just have to talk to her, and make sure she doesn't hurt him."

Ultra kisses him softly, "I think that he likes her a very great deal, Optimus. He clearly knew why I was asking, but since I didn't press he was willing to talk."

"All the more reason for her to meet us," Optimus says, entirely reasonable in his expectation. If she wanted to be Bulkhead's friend-or more-she would need to get along with the rest of them.

Ultra rubs his back, "Do not ask her to come to Autobot Command. You know that makes most bots nervous." Optimus frowns. Did Ultra have to ruin his plans like that?

Sighing, he cuddles into Ultra's touch, "I won't, then. We'll figure something out." He's kissed again, and he clings to his bot, "Later, though. Later."

Ultra rubs foreheads, "That's what I thought." Optimus just hums happily, engine purring.

A cough behind him has Optimus turning on Ultra's lap, flushing a bit to find Sari scowling down at him from Cyclonus' shoulder. "We're going to vote now."

Red bows litter the mech's form, and each of his wings are liberally wrapped in ribbon. If Optimus didn't know better, he'd say they were twitching in agitation. Perhaps they were. Wings were remarkably sensitive - he knew that well enough from his own brief experience with wings.

She continues, "As much as I don't want to say this... I'm going to have to vote... yes." She glares at Ultra, "This is not because I like you, it is because Cyclonus convinced me it is a good idea." Optimus looks at Cyclonus, who looks utterly confused. It is very clear that the jet never said anything about which way to vote, and he can only assume that she meant the fact that Ultra got the mech freed, and given to her.

Ultra relaxed so much against Optimus that the smaller mech worried his intended was going to melt right through the couch. He'd been more worried about Sari's approval and willingness to accept him into the family than he'd revealed. Optimus rubs Ultra's thigh soothingly.

Prowl smiles, "Jazz already considers you family. Lockdown and I would be glad to have you as well."

Draping himself over Prowl, Jazz flashes them a little thumbs-up sign, "Told you ya had nothing to worry about, man."

Ultra smiles, holding Optimus close, and the rest of the family gives their approval. It is clear the one Ultra was the most worried about was Sari, and when she agreed, the rest fell into place.

Optimus was seated at the desk, with Bumblebee standing as much at attention as Bee was capable of beside him. "Please, have a seat, Crumplezone."

The femme looked rather nervous; she had a jaw rather like Bulkhead's, and a very nice set of blue optics. She sat across from them. "I'm afraid I don't understand why I was asked to come here. I didn't even know Autobot Command had an office out here. The sign said this was a requisitions office."

He can see her flexing her fingers, as if to reach into her sub-space, and glancing at the black symbol spot on her arm, he'd guess it is her wanting to just slap an Autobot sticker on so they don't declare she was supporting the Decepticons or some other nonsense. He knows most neutrals didn't care one way or another who won as long as they could keep living their lives.

He glances down at the datapad in front of him, and looks her directly in the optics, "I've heard a little bit about you from Bulkhead. It says here that you're a mech?" He carefully does not look at the bot's curvy figure, "But he is under the impression that you're a femme."

"Most bots think I'm a femme," the bot answers, clearly confused about why she, or he, is being asked about this. "If anyone asks, I'll tell them I'm a mech. Bulkhead never asked." Crumplezone shrugs, "It doesn't bother me to be thought of as a femme, and I get slagging," he coughs, "uh, sorry for the language, I get pretty irritated having to prove I'm a mech all the time."

Optimus nods, and flips through the datapad again. The rest of it is just random stories he dropped in to make it look like he had more information, and he looks back at the green mech, "Not a problem. I was just curious about that. Anyway," He hands the pad to Bee, "down to what we wanted to speak to you about." He looks over, and Ratchet and Prowl walk in. "What are your intentions with Bulkhead?"

"My," the mech watches the others come in, visibly tensing, "intentions?" His servos twitch again, and Optimus wonders if he's still wanting to go for any Autobot things he's carrying, or if it's an instinctive desire to have a weapon available when surrounded by potentially hostile bots. Possibly both. "I have no idea what you're talking about, sirs."

Optimus shares a look with Prowl and Ratchet, while Bumblebee is reading through the datapad he handed the minibot, "You don't? You were the one he mentioned the most, and he mentioned really liking a femme." Ratchet looks like he wants to snap out something, but Prowl grabs the medic before Ratchet can say anything. "Are you the ... bot that he spends most of his time with?"

Crumplezone gives them a horribly confused look, no longer twitching towards his sub-space, "Well, yes, but he never said anything about liking me. Other than as a friend ... sir."

"Do you intend to take advantage of his trust?" Optimus asks, servos folded carefully in front of him on the desktop.

The bot gives him an odd look. "Take advantage of Bulkhead?" His fingers rub restlessly against his leg. "Why in Primus's name would I do that? I mean, you say he's ... interested in me?" Crumplezone shakes his head. "I never even noticed. I mean, my general rule is making sure a bot knows I'm a mech after they hit on me."

Prowl sits on the desk, posing so he doesn't look intimidating but is still higher up, "And you say that he hasn't expressed interest?" Crumplezone gives them a confused head nod. "Do yo-" Prowl stops at a gentle touch from Optimus.

"Well, since you genuinely didn't know, I think we will skip over our usual speech to bots that he likes."

"Usual speech?" Crumplezone eyes them carefully, "Do you normally try scaring off the bots he likes? 'S not a very friendly thing to do."

Optimus offers him a smile that's not entirely kind, "Bulkhead is a fantastic mech. But he can be a bit too trusting at times. We just like to prevent him from being hurt unnecessarily."

"Trusts too easily?" The mech looks like he wants to curse at them, but isn't sure if he can get away with it.

Bee finally looks up, "Oh, yeah. Way too easily. Remember the Constructicons?"

Crumplezone narrows his optics, "Yeah. I remember reading about them. And Bulkhead mentioned them a couple times, when he was overcharged."

Ratchet leaps on that, "You've been getting him overcharged?"

"He's been getting himself overcharged. Like a normal bot."

He can tell Ratchet wants to start cursing, and that will solve absolutely nothing, so he sets a servo on the medic's arm. "He is an adult, do I need to have Arcee tell you that? She will be far less kind about how it is said."

Ratchet gives him a dirty look, and crosses his arms, "Fine, Prime. Go on with what you want to say."

He looks at Crumplezone, thinking about it. "If he does approach you, and you hurt him, we will rip out your spark." He smiles, "But if you make him happy, you will be welcome into our family for as long as you wish." He can see the carbot's thoughts in the mech's optics. "And you will want to be part of the family if you two get together. He will not part with us, and we will not part with him."

"He's a teammate," the mech answers cautiously. "Not the same kinda team you've got going on, obviously, but a teammate still. I'm not going to intentionally hurt him." He stands, "Look, are we done here? I'm not really comfortable talking about this behind his back."

Optimus pulls out another datapad, "Yes, of course. And if you're uncomfortable about us discussing this without Bulkhead, you are welcome to tell him. There are no secrets among family, after all."

Crumplezone gives him a look that is clearly hiding a glare before nodding. "Of course, sir." The bot's tone is just on the edge of bitter.

They watch him walk out, waiting a full klik as Prowl makes sure he's gone. Then the ninjabot comments, "He's really quite pretty, isn't he?"

"That's utterly irrelevant, Prowl," Optimus scolds him.

Ratchet stares at the door, "He looks just like a femme. Makes a bot think he's hiding something."

He resists the urge to cover his face with his servo. "I'm not sure I follow that train of logic, Ratchet."

The medic grumbles, "Just, it's pretty rare for a mech to look that much like a femme. And how do we know he was actually gonna tell Bulkhead about it?"

"If he doesn't, then we do. It will be easy enough to bring into conversation if he starts talking about how pretty his girlfriend Crumplezone is, don't you think?"

Ratchet glares at him, then turns away, arms crossed and grumbling.

Bumblebee blinks, "Oh hey, I need to take this call." He presses his fingers to his temple and listens for a nanoklik, "Woah, hey, Blurr. Slow down. What are you ..." he stops. "Did he really? No. I didn't leave any paint out for him. I have no idea how he got into it. It's not my fault if he painted you orange and yellow. Firefly likes those colors."

Optimus watches as Bee walks around the room, "I don't know where the solvent is, but I think that- what do you mean Firefly was trying to destroy the dispenser?" Bee winces unhappily, "Did you tell him that's where the good energon comes from? ... and that's why he's angry? ... Yeah... okay. I'll head home, just let me tell Optimus. Love you, too."

Bee turns to him, and he waves a servo. "Go, it sounds like Blurr needs you more than we do, and we're just going to be cleaning up." Bee is a yellow streak that runs out of the office, and he shakes his head. "Let's go home. I need to prepare for taking care of that little trouble maker tomorrow."

Three megacycles of effort later, Optimus was finally willing to declare his apartment safe for sparklings. Bee would be dropping Firefly off soon, and Ultra would arrive shortly thereafter. An entire solar cycle alone with Ultra - and a sparkling. Well, it wasn't truly alone, as they would likely take Firefly out to burn off some of his energy mid-day, and he fully anticipated that Sari and Lockdown would be scattering calls to them both throughout, to make sure they hadn't snuck off for an interface while Firefly was napping.

Optimus flushes. As if he'd ever do that.

He looks around, making sure there's nothing he's missing, when there's a knock at the door. He lets Bee in, and takes the fussy sparkling into his arms, "Sorry, bossbot, we haven't fed him yet. Lockdown and Sari said that you guys need to do it. I'd normally feed him first thing, but..." He trails off unhappily.

Optimus grabs the cube of energon he already had prepared and holds it, "I know, Bee. You go have fun with Sunstorm and Blurr. I can do this by myself for the few cycles it takes Ultra to get here."

"Thanks so much, Bossbot. We really do appreciate having a solar cycle off." He leans forward and kisses Firefly's forehead. "Be good for Optimus and Ultra." Firefly smacks the side of his helmet and Bee blinks. "He's a little cranky before he eats."

"I can see that," Optimus hums, and shakes the energon cube carefully, "I have fuel for you, Firefly. Are you hungry?"

Firefly glares at the cube, "No!"

"Are you sure?" Firefly nods angrily. "I could drink it instead, since you're so sure." Optimus' tone is light as he starts to bring the cube to his lips.

"No!"

"So you do want it?"

"No!"

Optimus shrugs, "It's mine then. You can't have any." He drinks a bit of it, very visibly, and not faking at all. Licking his lips, he murmurs, "Delicious."

Firefly gives him a horrified look, "No! Mine!"

Holding it out for Firefly, he says, "I don't know, Firefly. You were pretty sure you didn't want it."

Firefly takes the cube and starts to drink from it, with a little hissed, "Mine!"

Bumblebee laughs and pats Firefly's head. "I can see you've got him well in servo. We'll swing by to pick him up later tonight." And with that, the minibot is gone in a flash.

Firefly hisses at him as he puts the mech in a chair. Patting the bot on the head, he pulls out the blocks again. "When you're done with that, would you like to play with blocks or watch a movie?"

Firefly glares at him, pushing away his half full cube, "No."

The door chimes and Optimus goes to answer it, leaving Firefly with his energon cube. "Ultra," he smiles, leaning up for a kiss. "Firefly is here already."

Servos lift Optimus for a much deeper kiss, glossas delving. He's not released until his engine revs. Ultra Magnus sets him back on his peds, "Good morning, Optimus."

Trying to get his spark to stop hammering in his chest, he murmurs back, "Good morning." Shaking his head, he pulls his intended in, and closes the door. Turning back to Firefly, he frowns, "You need to drink it all, you know."

"No! Tastes icky." The sparkling glares at the cube, refusing to even touch it.

Ultra chuckles and picks the cube up, dipping a finger in it to test. He makes a face and kneels down to get closer to optic level with the sparkling. "It is pretty icky. Would you like me to make it better?"

Firefly perks up, "Make it candy?"

Patting the little bot's head, he rises again. "Not candy, I'm afraid." He scoops Firefly up in his other arm and carries them into the kitchen, putting Firefly on the counter top. Optimus watches curiously.

"Do you know what you're doing?"

Ultra rifles through the cabinets, pulling out some of the energon additives that had been gathering metaphorical dust there. "Of course I do." He pours the energon into a mixer, and adds two or three different powders to it. "I've taken care of sparklings in the past. I admit they always have tended to take advantage of me a bit."

"You have? I thought you di-" he cuts himself off, not wanting to bring up painful memories. He whispers softly, "Sorry."

Ultra hands Firefly the cube of mixed energon, and pulls him into a hug, and a soft kiss. "It was a very long time ago, Optimus. You don't have to apologize. I've long since accepted that they are long gone."

"You don't have to talk about them," Optimus laces his fingers with Ultra's.

The larger mech pulls their combined servos up and kisses his fingers. "I don't mind talking about them. With you."

Flushing, Optimus turns his attention to Firefly, who is licking his lips, the energon cube completely empty. The truckbot's optics widen. "What did you do to it?"

"I just added a few things so it will taste sweet to a sparkling, but not ruin the nutrition already in the mix." Ultra puts Firefly in Optimus's arms, "I figured it out while taking care of my nephews and niece."

Despite his curiosity, he doesn't ask for details about them. Ultra will share what he feels comfortable sharing. Balancing Firefly in his arms, he smiles at his intended. "So you have a lot of experience with sparklings?"

"Quite a bit, yes. Only as an uncle, though."

They walk to the living area. "Did you like the energon Ultra made for you, Firefly?"

"Yes! More?"

Optimus glances at Ultra, who shakes his head, "I'm sorry, Firefly, but you're only supposed to have a cube unless you're healing."

Optimus rubs foreheads with the little mech, "But we can fuel up again later, with Ultra's special mix. Want to do something now?"

Firefly squirms down to the pile of blocks, picking up an assortment before climbing Ultra like piece of furniture, perching on top. "Want to make guns." He starts sticking the blocks to Ultra's turret mounts.

"You think I need more?" Ultra is clearly fighting off the urge to laugh.

Firefly doesn't even dignify that with an answer, just slaps more blocks on Ultra's turrets. Optimus chuckles softly, "Are you sure they only need to be there? He has arms and legs, you know."

Firefly gives him a calculating look, optics roving over his arms and legs, before going back to adding blocks to where they were in the first place. "No."

Optimus picks up a few blocks to fiddle with, trying to assemble something that would fly. "Would you like some, Ultra?"

Shaking his head, Ultra simply watches Firefly build on him, "I'm quite content with watching the two of you."

Leaning against his beloved, his engine purrs happily, "If you say so." He pulls several blocks together, wondering if he should make a jet or some other aircraft.

Ultra rests a servo on his shoulder, rubbing a thumb on Optimus's faceplate lovingly, "I do."

It only took the smallest of movements to turn his head enough to kiss that fingertip. Ultra's optics dim slightly, and he brushes the thumb over his lips; Optimus considers opening his mouth and licking.

Luckily, he's saved from having to make such a decision by a cranky sparkling smacking his servo on Ultra's turret noisily. "More blocks!"

Pulling away from Ultra's touch, Optimus fights back a flush. "That's not how you ask for something, Firefly."

Firefly pouts. "More blocks, please!"

"Much better." He hands a pile of blocks to Ultra, who transfers them to Firefly. The little mech arranges those into a pile, then goes back to putting more pretend guns on Ultra. Shaking his head, Optimus returns to his own project. He's searching through the bloacks for rotor blades when there's a com call.

He sighs, bracing himself, and puts his fingers to his temple, and the amused tones of Lockdown come instantly, "You two better stop 'facing, there's a sparkling you should be taking care of."

"Charming as always, Lockdown," Optimus says, sitting back to watch Firefly construct some sort of fantastically impractical gun. He wonders if the sparkling will destroy it after realizing they do not have enough blocks for him to create an identical weapon on Ultra's other shoulder. "Was there a point to your call, or did you simply wish to harass?"

"Well, harassing you was the main priority, but I also called to tell you that you should take Firefly out to a park or somethin' to that effect. Like an actual parent."

Optimus sighs, "And you just so happen to have a park in mind that you want us to go to, I bet. Where you just so happen to be."

"It's even close to your apartment!"

"I'm sure it is. Just give me the name, and we'll bring Firefly down in a megacycle or so."

Lockdown rattles off the location, and Optimus disconnects the call as quickly as possible, before Lockdown can convince him to agree to anything else. Only a few blocks remain on the floor now, Ultra having given most of them to Firefly, who looks increasingly frustrated by the fact that Optimus hasn't supplied enough materials for two enormous, impractical gun assemblies.

Looking up at the little bot, he tilts his head, "If you made it smaller, you could put on two."

Firefly makes an unhappy whining noise, whimpering out, "No."

Handing up his still unfinished helicopter, he dusts off his arms, "If you're sure. We're out of blocks. You used them all. No way to fix that."

Something flashes in the little bot's optics, and he leans in to whisper something in Ultra's audio, giving him a wide, pleading look after. Remembering Ultra's own admission, and the tiny Elite wings on Firefly's Autobot insignias, Optimus gives the both of them a stern look.

"No, you will not be buying him more blocks."

Ultra reaches up, a gentle servo on Firefly's back, "It isn't like having more would be a bad thing, Optimus."

He shakes his head, "No. No more blocks. The amount I have is enough for three sparklings, as long as they don't do something like that," he waves an arm at the faux gun that Firefly is still adding to from the loose blocks. "More is not needed, and you know it."

"It won't do any harm, Optimus," Ultra protests, shifting his shoulder to allow Firefly better access.

He's forced to disagree. "It will teach him that you cave to his every demand." Optimus watches Ultra hunch in on himself a bit, defensively, and he reaches out to grab his servo, squeezing it. "You need to learn to say no. For when we have our own sparklings." He manages not to blush by sheer power of will.

He can hear Ultra's engine rev slightly as his mech says, "We could get more blocks to keep for our sparkling; keep them here for Firefly to play with them."

Optimus sighs, shaking his head. "You must be strong on certain points, Ultra. This is something that you need to realize: we don't need more than what we already have. You don't want to spoil sparklings too much."

"You're not the best judge of what a bot needs," Ultra scolds him lightly. "If it were up to you, you'd be drinking utter swill and have an apartment with barely enough room for a berth."

"I wouldn't," he insists, though really, he doesn't need an apartment this large, or expensive energon. "But even if I did, that doesn't mean we should be spoiling Firefly by agreeing to his every demand. Sparklings have to learn that they don't get everything they want."

"But getting more blocks isn't going to sp-"

Optimus puts a finger against Ultra's mouth, "And when they ask for a new toy every day? One toy every time you go out and come back? You need to learn to draw the line early, Ultra. Every so often will not hurt, but if you bring a piece of candy every day..." He gives his mech a concerned look, "We do not need more blocks. We have is enough."

"More?" Firefly asks, running out of blocks with the second gun still unfinished.

Ultra sighs quietly, reaching up to pet Firefly's wings. "No more for now, Firefly. We'll get more blocks when your brother is born." He smiles at Optimus. "That's a fair compromise?"

Optimus rubs his optics, "I suppose." He looks up at Firefly, "Hand down the blocks, Firefly. We're going to the park, and Ultra will look very silly with only one finished block gun. Don't you agree?"

Firefly looks at the toys irritably, "... yes."

The blocks store away nicely in the space he's set aside for them, though he tucks a few away in his subspace in case Firefly wants to play with them at the park. "Do you want Ultra to carry you?"

"Yes," Firefly clings to the turret mounts, petting them with his tiny servos.

With Optimus taking Ultra's servo, they walk out the door. He leans on his beloved as they get into the elevator. "Think Lockdown will be hiding, or will he be really obvious about it?"

His intended hums in thought, "How did he sound on the call?"

He shrugs, "Same as he ever does, really. Half mocking, half full of dark humor, all dangerous."

"I'm fairly sure your assessment of danger stems from when he..." Ultra trails off, scowling.

"From when he kidnapped and tried to cut me apart for mods?"

Ultra squeezes his servo hard, "Remind me why we let him near you?"

Optimus walks close to him, waving at the guard as they leave, "He's redeemed himself; or he's still redeeming himself. And, while I can't call him a good mech, he's certainly not a bad one anymore."

On his shoulder, Firefly starts to twitch, and Optimus can hear his little heel turbines start up. Ultra reaches up and taps Firefly's wing. "No flying around our heads. If I have to, I'll get out a little tether and hook your servo to one of my guns."

Firefly gives Ultra a horrified look, and curls up in the turrets. The little bot whispers, "No."

"Then you don't go flying off where we can't get you."

Firefly whines softly, but doesn't try to take off.

Thankfully, the park is only a short distance away. Optimus spots Lockdown immediately, sitting on a bench, every other bot having chosen to sit quite a distance away from him. Lockdown pretends to not notice them. Optimus rolls his optics. He'll probably play this off as an utterly chance meeting.

"Lockdown," he greets the mech, who jerks his head up and affects an expression surprise.

"Why, Optimus, I'd have never expected to see you here." He pulls a camera from his subspace. "I'm just admiring the scenery."

Optimus eyes him cautiously, "If any of the other bots think you're taking pictures of them, or of their sparklings, you'll need to stop."

Lockdown smirks, "Do you really think that I would ev-"

Optimus talks over him, "Yes. You would. You are not going to. Or I will destroy that camera."

Lockdown rolls his optics, "Yeah, yeah. I got it, kid. I wasn't going to, anyway. No profit in terrorizing random bots like that, anyway."

"You forget that I've known you for stellar cycles," Optimus rests a servo on his hip, "and I know that unlike Swindle, you place equal value on entertainment and credits."

Servos in the air in a gesture of surrender, Lockdown tisks at him, "You're no fun, kid. Just like my ninjabots, who refused to come with me for this."

He'd like to threaten not to allow the bot to publish anything, but he's in public and not able to admit he actually does let the mech do it. Instead he gives Lockdown a dark look, and returns to Ultra, who is holding Firefly to keep him from taking off. "Maybe there should be some areas for fliers at various parks?" he murmurs as he looks through the various obstacle areas, all made for autobot models. "Since we're integrating various flying models into society."

"We'll bring it up at the next Council meeting," Ultra promises, "though I don't imagine it will get much priority. Few Autobots are flight-capable."

Firefly takes off, and they watch the sparkling skim the tops of various areas, "Maybe we should have more."

Ultra reaches over, taking his servo, and squeezing it gently, "If everything goes well, we will."

"It helps that some of the flying bots have been willing to share code with us," Optimus leans against his side, soaking up his warmth. "Though I'm sure Perceptor would appreciate significantly more time to study said code from the actual bots, rather than the datapads they offer."

Ultra moves so Optimus is being held in both arms as they stand, "They do seem adamant on not having their code studied while the pad is in them."

Optimus leans against his intended, "Maybe in a few stellar cycles."

Firefly does several loop-the-loops, "Or less?"

They watch as the sparkling lands gently on the ramp next to a little carbot, "I'd bet more. The sparklings would be more likely to agree than the actual seekers."

Firefly makes a face at the other sparkling, saying something they can't hear, and the car sparkling takes off down the ramp, Firefly close behind. "Possibly."

Optimus chuckles, "I'm sure part of their objection is Perceptor's single shoulder cannon. You know how they get about asymmetry."

"Lockdown drives them mad," Ultra agrees, kissing Optimus gently. He knows the other bots in the park are watching them, but he doesn't mind it nearly as much now.

They watch as Firefly kisses the carbot he was racing on the cheek, making the other little mech giggle. "I've had them offer to put a second autobot symbol on my other arm."

Firefly flits off to another sparkling, bowing deeply. "When was this?"

The little motorcycle curtsies back. "A little bit after Prowl ripped off Starscream's head." Firefly kisses the little femme's servo, and pulls her into a small dance, holding her servos and spinning them both in a small circle. Optimus tilts his head, "Firefly is being very... charming, isn't he?"

"Seekers can be charming when they want." Ultra pets Optimus's hip. "They are quite talented at it."

Optimus knows this firsthand, having spent so much time among them. Though Starscream had always leaned more towards the handsy side of charming, especially when he'd gotten Optimus alone. Thinking of it made his spark squirm uncomfortably in his chest.

Ultra kisses him softly on the temple, and he relaxes into his love's arms. "Some of them."

Ultra kisses him on the top of the head as Firefly lets go of the femme to kiss a motorcycle sparkling mech on the helm. "Well, it seems like he is, anyway."

Firefly spreads his wings, allowing the little mech to point out the elite wings jealously. "He does have the pride down, too."

A short exchange of some sort has Firefly pointing to them both, and Optimus waves at the little sparklings who all stare at them with wide optics. The motorcycle sparkling zips over to them and transforms, so much tinier than Firefly as he looks up at them. "Are you really Ultra Magnus?"

Dropping to one knee to get a bit closer, Ultra nods, "I am. And what's your name? Are your parents that nice pair of cyclebots over there?"

The little bot puffs up proudly, "Yes!"

"You certainly look like them." Ultra tilts his head, a small smile on his face, "Was there something you wanted? Or did you just come over to make sure Firefly wasn't lying?"

The sparkling glances over to Firefly, who is kissing another sparkling, this time on the nose, before turning back to Ultra. "You gave him wings."

Ultra chuckles, "That I did. Did you want some of your own?"

"Yes!" the sparkling shouts, bouncing up and down on his peds. He glances back at his parents, and then adds, "Please," as an afterthought.

"Do you think the other sparklings would like some wings too?" Ultra asks, already pulling out a can of paint and a brush.

The sparkling seems torn-he clearly wants special wings of his own, but doesn't want to lie to Ultra Magnus. "Yes," he finally admits, scuffing his peds on the ground.

Ultra pats his head, "Go tell them to come over."

The little bot speeds away, and Optimus casts a stern look at Ultra. "You can't paint Elite Guard wings on them all."

His intended just smiles and hands Optimus a brush. "I agree. It would take far too long to do them all myself. Which is why you'll be helping."

Optimus gives him an incredulous look, "This better not be the-"

Ultra kisses him to stop him from talking, ignoring various grossed out noises from the sparklings, "It is just temporary. Only one day. Let them pl-"

Optimus bumps their foreheads, "Temporary paint is just fine, we don't know how many of these sparklings actually want to be an elite guard when they're older like Firefly does."

"The paint will have faded even from Firefly long before that becomes an issue," Ultra turns back to the sparklings, pointing the brush at the motorcyclebot. "I believe I promised you would get to go first. The rest of you will need to decide who gets to be painted by Optimus."

After the cyclebot stands in front of Ultra, the other sparklings share a look and push the femme towards Optimus.

Kneeling down, he starts to paint it on, "Do you know how important these wings are?" She nods her head, making him raise an optic ridge. "Do you really?" She pauses and shrugs. "It means that you're supposed to keep other bots safe while upholding the law. While you have this, it means you are supposed to be the most responsible bot you can be." He puts on finishing touches, "It is not a symbol you wear lightly. You must be good, because you represent the best of the Autobots as you wear it."

She nods solemnly, and then scrambles up his frame to plant a kiss on his cheek, before giggling and racing out of reach. He smiles bemusedly. Optimus would just have to hope the sparklings took his speech to spark.

They both work their way through the group of sparklings, until Optimus is painting the last one, reciting the speech to him. Ultra rubs Otpimus's shoulder when the little truckbot goes to join his companions. "It's good to hear things like that from you." Fingers rub against Optimus's insignia, "That you value these wings so much."

Leaning against his mech, he wraps his arms around the larger bot, "It is important. You need to remember what you're representing if you have it on. Bots see the symbol and are either happy that the best of us are good bots, or disgusted that the 'best' is a bot that can't control themselves in public. We want someone that knows how to act, and if they decide to be elites, they will remember how important it is."

"They're sparklings," Ultra murmurs into his audio, holding him close. "No one expects them to behave perfectly, no matter what insignia they bear." He rests a servo on the small of Optimus's back, wisely keeping it away from his aft. Optimus still had rather strict limits on certain kinds of public touching. "But I admit that I find your idealism refreshing. It is a large part of why I love you so."

Optimus nuzzles into Ultra's chest, avoiding the sparkplates deftly, "It is always better for them to know before it is vitally important than when they can't learn from a mistake."

Ultra kisses him on the top of the head, "Always so serious, Optimus."

He chuckles softly, "I guess, but I think it is important to know this."

"Maybe I should have you do the next round of promotions while giving your speech," Ultra nods to the sparklings, the ones that Optimus painted mostly acting a bit less rashly than the ones Ultra worked on. "They seem to have taken what you said to spark."

"It's a valuable lesson for them to learn," Optimus keeps an optic on Firefly, making sure the little bot continues to get along with the other sparklings. "One they'll need to remember if they intend to go through boot camp and the academy successfully."

Ultra tightens his hold into a more solid hug, "If they want to do that."

They watch as Firefly kisses another sparkling. "Of course."

http://girloz14.livejournal.com/160042.html

fanfic with tash, writing things, challenge, a continuous courting

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