Contest entry

[yami_samuraiflo]

My entry for the contest on

tf_bunny_farm

The bunny can be found here: http://community.livejournal.com/tf_bunny_farm/28970.html#cutid1

Title: The Joys of 'Expecting'
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Humor; Slash; Psychotic!Perceptor with mood swings.
Pairings: Perceptor / Smokescreen, hinted Grimlock / Swoop and Jazz / Prowl
Summary: Perceptor is 'with sparkling'. And the entire Ark trembles with fear. Actually, it's not just the Ark 's crew that's afraid. "Did he just glare that Decepticon into submission?"

Special thank to kirin_saga for her help and for providing this bunny.

 

 

Perceptor was a genius like no other. Perceptor was one of the kindest mech some of the Autobots stationed on the Ark had ever met. Perceptor was always ready to help, as long he wasn’t working in his lab on a very important project.

 

Well, usually if he was working on something with Wheeljack, a lot of people tended to disturb them and ask for their help on trivial things. They did this with a look of barely concealed fear - a fact none of the scientists had really noticed, usually too caught up in what they were doing.

 

Or if they did, they saw no need to comment on it.

 

Yes, Perceptor was a perfect Autobot that was never angered, no matter how many time and how many mechs had tried.

 

That is, until he onlined one morning and yelled at Brawn even before the mech had the chance to open his mouth. Who was the most surprised was still debated.

 

Thing didn’t stop there. In three hours, the usually nice scientist had screamed at Sideswipe and Sunstreaker – and barely managed to come out alive, if the look on the yellow twin’s face was taken into account – but also at Wheeljack, Huffer, Gears and Hound.

 

It was only after he had sent an almost crying Fireflight away and dodged three other Aerialbots in the hallways, bend on retribution, that the scientist began to ask himself what was wrong with him.

 

Actually, he had a pretty good idea of what his problem was after Jazz had teased him about being as twitchy as a human female when she was...

 

Oh.

 

OH!

 

Suddenly, it all made sense. He just needed confirmation.

 

A short visit to the medic had given him the answers that he was searching for. Ratchet was still staring at the readings in shock when Perceptor had left the room, stating he had to talk to a few people.

 

And right now, Perceptor was smiling in a very predatory way, sending shudders of fear through every mech who came across him as the microscope walked toward the Rec Room.

 

His target wasn’t here. Perceptor frowned. Seeing Prime, who for once had decided to join his troops, he walked toward him.

 

“Where. Is. Smokescreen?” asked Perceptor viciously when he was next to the Prime.

 

Most of the conversations in the room stopped as various mechs began to turn toward Perceptor, having a hard time associating the soft spoken scientist with the furious mech who seemed on the verge of assaulting the Prime.

 

Optimus resisted the urge to squirm under Perceptor’s glare. He had received several reports of the scientist’s strange behaviour, but had dismissed them. Or at least, he had tried to until Silverbolt barged into his office, telling him that his fellow Aerialbots were going to kill the microscope if they came across him.

 

Now, he was regretting that he had not taken measures sooner.

 

“Perceptor,” he said forcefully. “In case you forgot, I’m your commanding officer. I will not tolerate being spoken to this way. And I have received numerous complaints about your attitude today. I don’t know what your problem is, Perceptor, but I will not allow you to continue to be so rude to your fellow Autobots.”

Perceptor just snorted. “All right Prime. I will not be ‘rude’ with my ‘fellow Autobots’ and will be a good little mech and behave for you. Now, where is Smokescreen?”

“He’s on a mission with Ironhide,” answered the Autobots’ leader tensely, not liking one bit the way he was being spoken to, but deciding he could always take disciplinary measures later on. “Why do you want to know?”

“Oh my, Optimus! I thought you’d never ask! I’m carrying his sparkling, and I thought it would be for the best if I was the one to bring him the news before I try to murder him!” answered Perceptor, smiling brightly.

 

In the ensuing silence, the empty energon bube Mirage dropped hit the floor with an incredible noise.

 

“You are... sure?” came the voice of Prime, full of uncertainty.

“Damn sure,” growled the microscope. “Ask Ratchet if you think I lie. Happy me, I’m going to be a creator. What’s so hard to understand here?”

 

A few mechs shared a glance.

 

“No offense,” said carefully Jazz, wincing when Perceptor glared at him. “But most of us thought you were... well, a virgin.”

“I most certainly am not!” shouted Perceptor.

 

Seeing the stares directed at him the scientist shrugged.

 

“What? Just because I don't speak about it like some others," he said, glancing at the Twins, “doesn't mean I don't have a sex life, for Primus' sake! And before anyone asks, I have a pretty good one! And I will add for everyone that even if Prowl or Bluestreak are less imaginative than Smokescreen in the berth, they are certainly worth a shot anyway!”

 

Many mechs, including Prime, tried not to look at the half-crazed microscope or the two Datsun, who were either frozen in place or trying to disappear under a table. They certainly didn’t need to know that.

 

“So... you’re ‘expecting’?” asked Hoist, who had came closer, followed by Grapple. They weren’t afraid of Perceptor. Or at least, not as much as the other Autobots. Unlike them, they had seen the mech angry more than once and weren’t as surprised when the usually collected microscope began to shout.

“Yes,” grumbled Perceptor, arms crossed over his chest.

“Why are you angry about that? It’s pretty good news!” said Grapple.

 

By the look of it, the two of them were already thinking about designs for the little one. Not that they would have a say in it, but one could always hope; working on the design of a sparkling was an old dream of theirs.

 

Perceptor raised an optic ridge.

 

“I’m not angry because I carry a sparkling,” he said quietly. “Seriously,” he added after seeing the looks on several mechs’ faces. “But I don’t like being caught by surprise like that. And I certainly didn’t plan to have a sparkling so soon.”

“Because you didn’t want one?” asked Bluestreak in a very small voice.

 

Perceptor glared at him, and the gunner decided it would be better if he just stopped talking for now, unless he wanted to be assaulted verbally and perhaps physically by the microscope.

 

“I’m not going to answer that. But the Ark is hardly the best place to have a newly onlined mech running around. Ah, it’s remind me...”

 

Suddenly, Perceptor was smiling like a sparkling.

 

Mood swings, Optimus reflected later, were scarier than the Pits. Not so many mechs had them in the first place, but sometimes, the developing new spark messed up with the behavioral circuits and well... results weren’t nice to look at.

 

Kindly, with no trace of his previous anger and murderous tendencies showing on his face, the microscope smiled at Red Alert, who had the strange need to gulp like the humans even though he couldn’t.

 

“Red Alert, would you be kind enough to see if there is a sparkling-proof room somewhere in the Ark? I don’t think mine is, and there’s not enough space to properly raise a sparkling in there, don’t you think?”

 

The Security Director nodded dumbly, his CPU on the verge of crashing. Thankfully, his paranoia was kept under control, if only barely.

 

Had one the Twins been the happy future creator, he would have screamed that it was a slagging conspiracy. But with Perceptor, he could be sure it just wasn’t a new way to aggravate him further... or could he?

 

Fortunately, Inferno was fast enough to catch his partner before he hit the floor. A muted thump behind him informed the fire truck that, unfortunately, nobody had been fast enough to catch Prowl before his logic circuits fried while trying to grasp that yes, Perceptor was ‘with sparkling’ and ‘pissed off’, as humans say.

 

Perceptor didn’t seem to care.

 

“If anyone need me, I will be in my lab. I would like to see Smokescreen as soon as he gets back,” he added while looking at Prime, who nodded slightly. Better to not crossing him yet, and send a message to the missing Datsun telling him to take his time getting back.

 

Perceptor with a sparkling. Perceptor... Jazz or Prowl, they could understand; they even expected that. Same thing for Red Alert and Inferno. Or Ratchet and Wheeljack, although some cringed when thinking about what their sparkling would look like.

 

But PERCEPTOR? The mech was already messed up now, so what would he be later on?

 

After the microscope had left the room, Bluestreak summed up what everyone thought with a single question. “We’re going to die, aren’t we?”

 

Optimus looked at the retreating microscope with a mix of relief and fear.

 

“I don’t know if we will, but I think Smokescreen will if Perceptor doesn’t calm down before he returns to the base...”

 

************************************ 

A month and half had passed since Perceptor’s announcement in the middle of the Rec Room and for the most part, life remained unchanged aboard the Ark. Or so the Autobots said to anyone who asked them.

 

But that couldn’t be further from the truth.

 

When Prowl had left the comfort of his berth to answer to the door of his quarters in the middle of the night, he hadn’t thought for a second it would be someone other than Jazz or Prime or even Red Alert.

 

But instead of the most obvious visitors, Smokescreen looked at the SIC with a nervous smile.

 

“Ah, Prowl... Can I ask you for asylum, just this night?” asked the red and blue Datsun, his voice low.

 

Prowl stared at him with wide optics, his CPU working fast to grasp what the other Datsun was saying. When he did, a thin smile marred is face.

 

“Perceptor threw you out?”

 

It was the most logical conclusion he could find. After all, Perceptor was... very emotional and prompt to verbally or physically lash out at anyone in his current... state. Everyone on the Ark could testify to this.

 

When he had returned to the Ark, his mission completed, Smokescreen had been surprised to see Perceptor waiting for him with a photon riffle. The blue Datsun had been very lucky he was so fast, for Perceptor’s aim was very good.

 

Bewildered, the Datsun had tried vainly to obtain an answer to his lover’s lethal welcome while trying to avoid the shots and screaming for his fellow Autobots to help. In the end, it had taken the Protectobots to stop the microscope long enough to take away his weapon.

 

After a rather colorful explaination, including words nobody had had any idea Perceptor even knew in the first place - and which had never even been heard from Ratchet's mouth - the shocked future creator had mercifully passed out. But not before agreeing he would obey his lover's whims, no matter what they were, if he didn't want to suffer.

 

In hindsight, even if Prowl didn’t approve of such a hasty promise, he had to admit it was the only logical choice if his fellow Datsun wanted to live.

 

Perceptor was scary like the Pits when he glared at you. And the fact he was armed and had lost any reluctance about threatening someone to have what he wanted didn’t help the situation.

 

So, life had continued, not always simple for everyone. Nobody knew for sure how to act with Perceptor.

 

In the last three days, the scientist had tried to throttle Wheeljack – never mind the fact they didn’t breath like the humans and a such didn’t need to breathe – when the engineer had tried to cheer him up after the microscope began to cry for no reason in the middle of the Rec Room.

 

He had harassed Red Alert for news security measures to ensure his future offspring would be safe everywhere in the base to the point the Security Director had resorted to drinking high-grade until he passed out just to forget the constant nagging. Ratchet hadn’t been amused and neither had Inferno.

 

The microscope had also acquired a strange fondness for throwing everything he could get his hands on at his lover or anyone who stood between them. Anybody who needed proofs could just ask Ironhide and see the dent in the red mech’s helm.

 

Nobody had been brave enough to ask Ratchet if he had been the one to teach the microscope to do that, but there were rumors.

 

Surprisingly, the only ones who didn’t have to suffer from Perceptor’s violent mood swings were the Dinobots. Once the situation had been explained to them, they were curious and eager to be around Perceptor, asking him question and asking to touch his armor under which a new spark had started to develop. And the microscope smiled at them, answered them quietly and gently and was only to happy to have them around.

 

The Autobot SIC had a sense of foreboding about that. Especially after he saw Swoop and Grimlock holding hands when they thought no one was looking...

 

He hoped he was wrong. Anyway, he planned to talk with Ratchet and Wheeljack before anything could happen.

 

But that wasn’t important right now. All that mattered was why Smokescreen was standing at his door at this unholy hour of the night.

 

Smokescreen fidgeted under Prowl’s gaze. “Hum... No, not really. I mean, he was seriously thinking about it, but I decided I wouldn’t wait until he finally cracked. So I exiled myself from our quarters until he calms down a little. Problem is, I didn’t plan ahead before and well, I don’t know where to recharge. You wouldn’t have a place in here, would you?”

 

Prowl started at his fellow Datsun some more.

 

“Why me?” he asked after a while.

“Huh?” was Smokescreen very intelligent answer.

“Why do you ask me for a bunk? About everyone on the Ark would be glad to help you after the beating you took earlier today.”

 

And it was true. Perceptor wasn’t very forgiving, it seemed. Many had winced in sympathy for their fellow Autobot.

 

Smokescreen smiled tensely. “Well, you see, I’m not sure Perceptor will not have another mood swings and decide to search for me later on.”

 

Prowl arked an optic ridge.

 

The blue and red Datsun looked at him for a few minutes before he continued. “Prowl, no matter how unstable Perceptor is right now, even he would have second thoughts before he’d try to burst into your quarters. Or at least I hope he will,” he mumbled.

 

Prowl sighed. Did he really want to risk the crazed scientist barging in? Not really. But he couldn’t just leave Smokescreen like this, could he? If he did, Jazz and Bluestreak wouldn’t be happy with him. Leaving another Autobot to suffer alone; what kind of monster would he be? Ah, well...

 

“Enter. You can recharge here tonight, but only tonight. Am I clear?” he added after letting the other Datsun enters.

Smokescreen sighed in relief as he walked straight for a chair. “Thank you, Prowl. You can’t imagine how tired I am.”

“Yes, I suppose being hit or belittled so often must be exhausting,” acknowledged the black and white Datsun while locking the door.

 

To his surprise, Smokescrren laughed. “Hit? Belittled? Oh Prowl,” he said, shaking his head, “That’s not the true problem. I can live with that, really. I know Perceptor doesn’t truly mean what he says sometimes. He apologizes in private often enough.”

Prowl stared. “Then what is the problem?”

“I’m just not as insatiable as he is, especially if I always have to be on top. Trust me, carrying a sparking is doing wonder for his libido,” the other Datsun answered slyly.

 

Prowl froze. Replayed the conversation in his mind. Stared at Smokescreen. Thought about Perceptor’s strange behavior and how both he and Smokescreen had taken to disappearing for a while every few hours.

 

He did the math. And promptly crashed onto the floor, his CPU about to fry. There were some things he didn’t need to know and didn’t want to, thank you very much.

 
***********************************************

 

As much as Perceptor's 'pregnancy' was distracting, there still was a war going on. Just because he was 'with sparkling', it didn't mean Perceptor wouldn't fight if he had to. In fact, he was eager to do so, which was quite unusual on his part.

 

And unfortunately, the Decepticons had the worst timing possible. Well, unfortunately for them anyway.

 

As Sideswipe would later say, once the battle was finished and everyone had the time to muse over a few facts: “Perceptor should be 'pregnant' all the time! I've never seen a battle so slagging fast and vicious before, and Primus knows I'm no pansy. If we drop him from the air on the Decepticon base in that mood, he would win the war single-handedly.”

 

Although Prime wasn’t so impressed by the scientist’s antics on the battle field: “I can’t believe he risked his life and the life of his future sparkling so carelessly! It was totally irresponsible on his part! He should never have been part of this battle!”

 

At which Jazz answered quietly: “Would you have preferred he slagged us instead? For he would have, if the Decepticreeps hadn’t attacked.”

 

Everyone had to agree that, if someone had to suffer, better the other side than them.

 

Yes, it was a terrible battle and, as some noted, a mostly one-sided battle. Perceptor wasn’t the only one fighting like crazy. Red Alert was feeling particularly vicious himself. Inferno was in awe seeing what his best friend could do.

 

He briefly thought about asking the Lamborghini where he had found those grenades but just shrugged in the end. Some things were better left unknown.

 

All the fighters, no matter the side they were on, were exchanging punches and shots.

 

Well, not all of them.

 

Hiding behind a boulder, a Decepticon and an Autobot weren’t part of the fighting. Instead, they talked with each other, not exactly like old friends, but at least calmly enough to not draw any attention on them.

 

It wasn’t that surprising, really. Thundercracker was probably the least violent of the Decepticons and after seeing the Lambo Twins’ preparing themselves to jump at anything that could fly, he had wisely decided to stay on the ground.

 

Jet Judo was the bane of his existence.

 

As for Smokescreen, who took cover with him, he didn’t like charging in the fray. That, and he had spotted Motormaster looking at him with a wild smile that screamed to him: “Stay hidden if you want to live!”

 

He was receiving enough death threats from his own allies without needing the Decepticons to add more.

 

So, weapons in subspace, the two warriors looked at their comrades in general, and at Perceptor in particular. It was hard not to, since he had just sent Dirge flying. Litterally.

 

“I thought he was supposed to be a Scientist, not a Weapon Specialist,” said the blue jet while looking at Perceptor. The microscope, huge riffles in each hands, was busy shooting at everything that moved in front of him, sending Soundwave lunging for cover behind a rock.

 

Next to Thundercracker, watching the show with amusement, Smokescreen smiled softly. “With Perceptor and Wheeljack, I think it’s the same thing sometimes. You should see what they work on sometimes...”

 

Thundercracker shuddered. “If it’s anything like what the Constructicons do in their spare times, then no thank you; I want to live.”

 

“Let me guess: random explosions?” asked the Autobots, wincing in sympathy.

 

Thundercracker just smiled at him, neither denying or confirming. Instead, he looked again at Perceptor. After managing to scare Soundwave away, he was fighting – well, he supposed you could call that fighting, even if his adversary was just trying to dodge and run away – Reflector.

 

“What crawled up his exhaust to get him in such a bad mood?” he asked, wondering.

 

“There was no cherry flavored Energon on the Ark when he asked for some,” deadpanned the Datsun.

 

Thundercracker looked at him strangely. “Cherry flavored? But we don’t have a sense of taste! Well, not like the one the squishies have, but...”

 

Smokescreen sighed. “I know, and he knows too. In fact, once he’s back to normal, he will probably be horrified he asked such a thing, but right now, he’s far too angry to care. It’s the new spark, you see. It’s messing with his behavior and logic circuits,” he said, trying to justify his mate’s current psychotic behavior.

 

The Seeker stared. “New spark? You mean he’s...”

 

Smokescreen nodded. “’Carrying’? ‘Expecting’? ‘Pregnant’? Yep. And we’ve lived in the Pits ever since. My fault, really; I wasn’t careful enough. But I didn’t know he had the sparkling subroutines installed and ready to be used,” mumbled the Autobot.

 

The Seeker’s lips twitched. “I take you are the not-so-happy future co-creator?”

 

“Yeah,” sighed the Datsun. “Between us, I don’t mind having a sparkling, but I hope it will be the last. Because if Perceptor turns psycho each time he’s with sparkling, I think I will rejoin the Matrix by the shortest path.”

 

Thundercracker was now looking at the microscope in a new light. “One day, my creator told me: ‘Pits hath no fury like a mech or a femme with sparkling’. I never believed him until now. That scientist of your is... scary like the Pits.”

 

Smokescreen nodded in agreement. “Almost everybody say that. And you’re lucky he didn’t grab any explosives before he joined the fray.”

 

A sudden explosion made them jump. Both looked again at Perceptor, just like most of the fighters.

 

“Look like I was wrong. He did take explosives with him,” deadpanned Smokescreen.

 

“Scary. He would have been a terrifying Decepticon,” commented Thundercracker, arms crossed over his chest.

 

Smokescreen looked at his lover with worry. Not for him, but for the people around him. “Tell me something I don’t know. Want me to be honest? I wouldn’t be very surprised to see him take the command of the Dinobots and trying to take the place of Prime and perhaps overthrow the Earth.”

 

Thundercracker gasped. “You’re kidding!”

 

Smokescreen shook his head. “I’m not. He would seriously do so if he was motivated enough. And for some reasons, the Dinobots like him. If he doesn’t try to wrestle the leadership away from Grimlock, they would be unstoppable.”

“Yeah, but still...” muttered the Seeker.

 

A very loud scream made them stop their discussion. Both of them looked again at the battlefield.

 

A Decepticon was prostrated on the floor in front of the microscope, wailing like a sparkling something that sounded like: ‘Pity!’. The strangest part was that Perceptor hadn’t even touched him. He was just glaring at him.

 

“...Did he just glare that Decepticon into submission?” said the Datsun, shocked.

 

Thundercracker narrowed his optics and looked at the scene before nodding in agreement. “Look like that. I can’t say I’m surprised. Mind you, Starscream isn’t the bravest of the bunch, but I think a glare like that one would be enough to send Devastator or even Megatron himself cowering in fear.”

 

Actually, he could have sent the whole army hiding at the other end of the galaxy, but Thundercracker didn’t comment on that.

 

“Speaking of the Slag-Maker, is it me or is he avoiding the area Perceptor’s fighting in?” asked Smokescreen, trying to follow the path of destruction left by his lover and the silhouette of the Decepticon’s warlord in the midst of the battle.

 

The blue Seeker just shrugged. “Ask me no question I will tell you no lies.”

 

Smokescreen sighed. He didn’t really except a clear answer. However, there was something else on his mind. “When do you think he will shout: ‘Retreat’? No offense, but you guys aren’t faring well...”

 

Thundercracker looked thoughtful. “None taken. A for a retreat...probably as soon as he crosses your scientist’s glare. I know I would,” he added.

 

As he finished speaking, a loud order was heard.

 

“DECEPTICONS! RETREAT!”

 

“I guess he just did,” smiled Smokescreen, trying to not chuckle madly. “Now, that’s just priceless.”

 

Thundercracker didn’t say anything about that. But to the Pits if he couldn’t have fun teasing the Autobots! “What will be priceless, is how you’re going to survive until he has his sparkling. After all, you’re solely responsible of his state and the most likely to end up deactivated in the end,” said the blue jet, smirking, before he took off.

 

Left alone, the Datsun groaned. “Why did he have to remind me of that? WHY?”

 

********************************************** 

As the Autobots learned in the following months, you can always live with the mood swings, the strange cravings and the occasional emotional outbursts and random acts of senseless violence.

 

However, all of them agreed they could live without the screaming which came with the opening of the chamber where the new spark, having finally reached the end of his development, nested before his transfer to a protoform.

 

The Ark’s crew had been overjoyed when Perceptor had announced his programming was starting to slowly prepare the sparkling’s spark for transfer. Finally, the end of the nightmare was nearing.

 

A small party had even started the moment the microscope had entered the Medbay with Ratchet, First Aid and Wheeljack.

 

Smokescreen hadn’t been so happy. Especially after Perceptor started screaming at him: “It’s your fault!” and “I’ll kill you!”. Ratchet had assured him it was perfectly normal, but still, the Datsun had to fight the increasing urge to run away crying.

 

Except if he had really gone, then Perceptor would never forgive him. What was a death threat or two in a moment of pain and emotional distressl?

 

But actually, Perceptor had screamed about fifty different death threat, with very graphics details before he was reduced to whimpering, then to silence. Smokescreen had thought about entering the Medbay to be next to his mate, but the Datsun didn’t doubt for a second Perceptor would start again the moment he saw him.

 

That was the main reason he was standing outside the Medbay, refusing to set foot inside until Ratchet finished onlining the sparkling, with a part time 'bodyguard' and part time 'messenger' who would inform the rest of the Ark of the sparkling's name and 'gender'

 

Jazz hadn’t minded; he could always join the party later. For the moment, both he and Smokescreen leaned against the wall outside the Medbay, optics on the door. Or at least, Smokescreen’s optics were.

 

The saboteur looked curiously at the future creator. He was... smiling. How could he, Jazz had no idea. Everyone expected the Datsun to be a wreck at this point, but it seemed that he was holding himself together. Still, he had to be sure...

 

“You seem strangely calm. Aren’t you afraid?” he asked his fellow Autobot.

“Oh, I certainly would be afraid if I wasn’t totally drunk,” answered cheerfully the red and blue Datsun.

 

Jazz stared at him. Well, at least, he now knew where the cube of high-grade reported stolen by Red Alert had disappeared to.

 

“Perceptor will not be happy with you,” he warned his fellow Autobot playfully.

“He’s never been happy with me since he got ‘pregnant’. Except when he want me to –“

Jazz, guessing what was coming, cut the other off before he had a chance to finish. “Smokescreen, my mech, there are some things I don’t want to know.”

 

The noise of the door’s opening made them jump. First Aid was the first one to come out, followed by Wheeljack, who nodded at them before he left.

 

“Where is he going?” asked Jazz.

“To warn the Dinobots to be on their best behavior if they want to access the Medbay,” answered First Aid. “They wanted to come the moment they were told about...” he trailed.

 

Smokescreen winced. Somehow, Perceptor had become the Dinobots’ greatest friend. Probably because he sent them after anyone who caused him emotional distress and gave them a way to fight other Autobots without ending in the brig... well, most of the time.

 

Let’s just say some of the Minibots tried to disappear if Perceptor happened to be in the same room.

 

The Protectobot fidgeted. Jazz noticed right away and frowned.

 

First Aid looked at them with, Jazz was fairly certain, shock. “Smokescreen, you can come in,” said the Protectobot quietly. Far too quietly for comfort.

“They... are they all right?” asked the Datsun, suddenly frightened, taking a step toward the door. Jazz grasped his shoulder, keeping him still.

“Easy there. No reason to be nervous, right, Aid?” smiled the Datsun.

 

First Aid hesitated before answering. “Well... No, not really but... I think it would be better if you saw for yourself.”

 

Perceptor’s voice was heard from the still open room. “Smokescreen, love, come in! You absolutely must see them!”

“Them?” asked both Smokescreen and Jazz, entering the room.

 

First, they saw Ratchet, who shook his head. Second, they saw Perceptor who, although he seemed a bit tired, was grinning. Then they saw them.

 

Smokescreen’s CPU was on the verge of crashing. The happy squeals and chirping of the one... two... three almost identical sparklings did nothing to ease him.

 

For a second, Smokescreen thought his optics were playing a trick on him, but no. There were really three of them, nested against Perceptor’s chest, looking around in wonder with wide, innocent optics, their little hands patting their creator’s armor. One had a microscope – or was it a telescope? – on the right shoulder, and another had a visor, but aside from that detail, they shared the same paint job and the same face.

 

Perceptor was looking proudly at them. He smiled at his mate as if he had never envisaged for a second to send him to the smelting Pits. “Well, love, aren’t you going to say ‘hello’ to your sparkling?”

 

Smokescreen finally sputtered. “Thr...three!”

 

Perceptor just looked at him with a frown. “Yes, three. Come on, Smokescreen; have you never heard of spark-splitting? Now, say hello.”

“Hello,” said the Datsun automatically. Then, he whined. “Yes, I know about spark-splitting, but three?”

 

Smokescreen thought he was going to shut down. One, he was ready for. Twin, he could live with, but three? How did that happen?

 

Near him, Ratchet smirked. “Yes, three of them. Look like you just sparked the Autobot’s version of Reflector. Congratulations.”

 

Jazz asked. “You mean they can combine?”

 

“Well, not right now, since they’ve just onlined, but someday they will be able to,” answered the medic before turning back to what he was doing.

 

The saboteur grinned. “Now, that’s a surprise, eh Smokescreen?”

 

Smokescreen didn’t answer. Instead, he came closer to Perceptor’s berth and knelt, stretching out a digit to caress one of the sparklings’ helm. Said sparkling had other idea, since he clumsily dodged the digit before trying to put it in his small mouth. The other two crawled next to him, putting their small fingers on their creator’s hand.

 

Perceptor’s chuckled. Smokescreen smiled widely.

 

Just behind him, Jazz smiled. Such cute little things! Perhaps he could convince Prowl to have one? Hum, not sure, but it would be worth a shot...

 

His own sparkling... Well, one could always dream.

 

Still, something puzzled the saboteur. Letting the happy new family unit bond, he marched to the medic, who was sorting his tools.

 

“By the way Ratchet, how did you manage to have three protoforms ready in time?”

 

Ratchet barely looked at him. “Oh, that? I didn’t make them right away, I just had them in storage for a while.”

 

“A while, hum?” smirked the black and white mech, guessing there was more to the story than what Ratchet was willing to say.

 

Ratchet shrugged. “Ok, I had them since we left Cybertron. What can I say? The way some of the people here looked at each other, I knew an ‘accident’ was going to happen sooner or later.”

 

“But it’s an happy accident, don’t you think?” smiled the saboteur as he watched Smokescreen take one of the sparkling in his arms.

 

Ratchet snorted. “Just wait for them to be able to walk and we will see if it’s still an ‘happy accident’.”

 

Before Jazz could answer, Wheeljack came back to the Medbay.

 

“Uh, Ratchet?” he tried.

“What?” grumbled the medic.

 

Wheeljack took a step back, seeming nervous.

 

“Well, you know I went to see the Dinobots – by the way, they will come later today, so be ready – and well, I noticed Swoop wasn’t feeling so well and Grimlock was kinda protective when I tried to get close to see what was wrong and...” babbled the engineer.

 

Ratchet cut him off. “Wheeljack, what are you trying to say?”

 

Wheeljack looked sheepish. “Do you think there is a way to gently tell Prime and Prowl there’s a new Dinobot on the way?”

 

Ratchet and Jazz looked at each other before proclaiming together:

 

“You do it!”

 

End

Comments

-ROTFL-

[love-psycho.livejournal.com]

So funny! Perceptor taking down all the Decepticons! And then there was the conversation between Smokescreen and Thundercracker. Priceless.
Cake for you! -hands over tray-