XFMR:The Third Finger on the Left Hand is Closest to the Heart
Title: The Third Finger on the Left Hand is Closest to the Heart
Fandom: Transformers
Characters/pairings: Technically Sarah/Will/Ironhide, thanks to Annabelle.
Rating: PG
Summary: Children see a much smaller slice of the world, but they see so much more within that slice.
Warnings: Annabelle being a five-year-old, pure fluffy nonsense.
Notes: Caz pimped out flesh_and_steel when I was feeling particularly vulnerable to bunny attacks. The resulting mental image would not go away.
Table of Contents
o o o
Ironhide carefully turned over the aluminum foil ring, examining it with a critical eye and a lot of bemusement. Annabelle had handed it to him with a smile that said she didn't expect him to realize what it was for, and such perceptions from her were usually spot-on. "The workmanship is admirable," he rumbled. Not quite in skill, maybe, but evidence of the time she had spent flattening lumps and adding layers for strength was apparent to anyone who looked close enough. For a five-year-old human, it was a display of incredible patience. "What is it for?"
"You wear it, Ironhide," she replied, bouncing on her toes. "It's a ring."
Well, it certainly was a ring, but jewelry? It was big enough, at any rate, to slide past the joints of his fingers, but Ratchet would murder him if he came back with foil scraps in his knuckle joints. Ironhide looked up, at the two adult humans lounging a short distance away. Will and Sarah both shrugged behind their daughter's back.
"I saw you didn't have one," Annabelle continued. "I guess they didn't make rings that big at the ring store back then. I bet Daddy could have made one, but," Here, her voice dropped to a whisper. "He's kinda forgetful sometimes. I'm sure he didn't mean it."
Back up at Will, who was frowning, clearly unable to pick up whatever she had whispered and why Ironhide was now fighting to not grin at him. "Back when, Annabelle?" Ironhide prodded patiently.
Annabelle gave him her patented 'silly Ironhide' look, tiny hands on tiny hips. "When you married Mommy and Daddy, o'course."
Sarah abruptly had carbonated beverage in her sinuses, choking and coughing to expel it. Will was showing a strong resemblance to a beached fish, his mouth opening and closing and his eyes wide in shock. Ironhide just stared. Following the child's reasoning on a good day was a trial. This went straight past the realm of 'the television programs she watches need to be more closely scrutinized' and into 'Dear Primus, what?!' territory.
"I saw pictures of Mommy and Daddy's wedding," Annabelle continued, swinging her arms and completely oblivious to the looks she was getting. "They wore all white and it was really pretty. Did you paint your armor white when you married them? Did Mommy wear another big dress? Why aren't there pictures?"
"There... was never a wedding I was in," Ironhide half floundered, still trying to get his mind around the concept of marrying, of bonding with his human charges. Millennia old, and a child of a few groons could completely stop up his processor with a single sentence.
"Oh." Briefly, she looked disappointed, but only briefly. "That's okay, Ms. Carlson at Sunday school says that married doesn't need a wedding, only lots of love and trust and a license. And Daddy and Mommy have drivers licenses, and you do cause you're a truck and you always drive everywhere, and you love Mommy and Daddy and they love you. So, you're married! And now you have a ring, too."
Will was looking at him that weird way, the one that said he knew that whatever he was thinking, Ironhide probably wouldn't like it, but he just might say it anyway because it was the truth. Sarah was flat-out smiling, which was slightly more terrifying. "Hard to argue with that logic, hun," she said, leaning forward in her seat.
"Good point," Will added. "You're practically common-law by now, Ironhide. Want to make it official?"
Ironhide's expression was one of mingled dismay and exasperation, tinged with amusement he wouldn't admit to. On Cybertron, he wouldn't call anyone he'd known for less than five vorns a friend, let alone five earth years. But humans aged fast, and made friends even faster, and by their standards, he was family by now.
And somehow, it didn't seem like all that bad of a thing.
Ironhide slid the gray hoop down over the third finger on his left hand, carefully settling it against his knuckle joint. A command made the nanomachines that formed his outer skin spring to life, absorbing the thin metal without dispersing it, leaving a band of glossy silver stark against the gray-white. Annabelle clapped in delight, hugging his foot and depositing a kiss on the bit of armor nearest to her face. "I now pronounce you man and wife and robot!" she crowed.
Fandom: Transformers
Characters/pairings: Technically Sarah/Will/Ironhide, thanks to Annabelle.
Rating: PG
Summary: Children see a much smaller slice of the world, but they see so much more within that slice.
Warnings: Annabelle being a five-year-old, pure fluffy nonsense.
Notes: Caz pimped out flesh_and_steel when I was feeling particularly vulnerable to bunny attacks. The resulting mental image would not go away.
Table of Contents
o o o
Ironhide carefully turned over the aluminum foil ring, examining it with a critical eye and a lot of bemusement. Annabelle had handed it to him with a smile that said she didn't expect him to realize what it was for, and such perceptions from her were usually spot-on. "The workmanship is admirable," he rumbled. Not quite in skill, maybe, but evidence of the time she had spent flattening lumps and adding layers for strength was apparent to anyone who looked close enough. For a five-year-old human, it was a display of incredible patience. "What is it for?"
"You wear it, Ironhide," she replied, bouncing on her toes. "It's a ring."
Well, it certainly was a ring, but jewelry? It was big enough, at any rate, to slide past the joints of his fingers, but Ratchet would murder him if he came back with foil scraps in his knuckle joints. Ironhide looked up, at the two adult humans lounging a short distance away. Will and Sarah both shrugged behind their daughter's back.
"I saw you didn't have one," Annabelle continued. "I guess they didn't make rings that big at the ring store back then. I bet Daddy could have made one, but," Here, her voice dropped to a whisper. "He's kinda forgetful sometimes. I'm sure he didn't mean it."
Back up at Will, who was frowning, clearly unable to pick up whatever she had whispered and why Ironhide was now fighting to not grin at him. "Back when, Annabelle?" Ironhide prodded patiently.
Annabelle gave him her patented 'silly Ironhide' look, tiny hands on tiny hips. "When you married Mommy and Daddy, o'course."
Sarah abruptly had carbonated beverage in her sinuses, choking and coughing to expel it. Will was showing a strong resemblance to a beached fish, his mouth opening and closing and his eyes wide in shock. Ironhide just stared. Following the child's reasoning on a good day was a trial. This went straight past the realm of 'the television programs she watches need to be more closely scrutinized' and into 'Dear Primus, what?!' territory.
"I saw pictures of Mommy and Daddy's wedding," Annabelle continued, swinging her arms and completely oblivious to the looks she was getting. "They wore all white and it was really pretty. Did you paint your armor white when you married them? Did Mommy wear another big dress? Why aren't there pictures?"
"There... was never a wedding I was in," Ironhide half floundered, still trying to get his mind around the concept of marrying, of bonding with his human charges. Millennia old, and a child of a few groons could completely stop up his processor with a single sentence.
"Oh." Briefly, she looked disappointed, but only briefly. "That's okay, Ms. Carlson at Sunday school says that married doesn't need a wedding, only lots of love and trust and a license. And Daddy and Mommy have drivers licenses, and you do cause you're a truck and you always drive everywhere, and you love Mommy and Daddy and they love you. So, you're married! And now you have a ring, too."
Will was looking at him that weird way, the one that said he knew that whatever he was thinking, Ironhide probably wouldn't like it, but he just might say it anyway because it was the truth. Sarah was flat-out smiling, which was slightly more terrifying. "Hard to argue with that logic, hun," she said, leaning forward in her seat.
"Good point," Will added. "You're practically common-law by now, Ironhide. Want to make it official?"
Ironhide's expression was one of mingled dismay and exasperation, tinged with amusement he wouldn't admit to. On Cybertron, he wouldn't call anyone he'd known for less than five vorns a friend, let alone five earth years. But humans aged fast, and made friends even faster, and by their standards, he was family by now.
And somehow, it didn't seem like all that bad of a thing.
Ironhide slid the gray hoop down over the third finger on his left hand, carefully settling it against his knuckle joint. A command made the nanomachines that formed his outer skin spring to life, absorbing the thin metal without dispersing it, leaving a band of glossy silver stark against the gray-white. Annabelle clapped in delight, hugging his foot and depositing a kiss on the bit of armor nearest to her face. "I now pronounce you man and wife and robot!" she crowed.