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ante_luceTitle: Baby Boom (or, Why you should always read the manual first) Chapter 7
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing
Thundercracker onlined to Skyfire puttering about his lab, and for a moment, just watched the shuttle as he went about his daily routine. He tilted his helm one way, then the other, wondering just why Starscream thought so highly of the scientist. So the shuttle had been his wing mate’s research partner eons ago, but apparently their friendship hadn’t been strong enough for one to stay with the other after they’d dug him out of the ice.
But the blue seekerling found himself respecting the scientist for making that choice, to leave the only mech he had any connection to after waking from all that time in stasis. Thundercracker probably wouldn’t have done it, frag, forget probably, he couldn’t have left the ‘Cons and his trine mates, no matter how disillusioned he became with their previous faction (let’s just say he’d not been too surprised when Megatron dumped them).
And… Skyfire was nice. Thundercracker never wanted for attention or care, and he felt safe with the shuttle in a way he’d previously only associated with his wing mates. Sure, there was a lot of poking, prodding and scanning, Skyfire was trying to return them to normal after all, and he always apologised and explained, even if he thought Thundercracker couldn’t understand him.
Speaking of the tests, here the little seeker was glad he was the one imprinted on the shuttle, even if he’d only done so at first because Skywarp hated the large mech for landing them in this situation, and Starscream was already out of the running, imprinting on the medic (maybe that’d teach the screechy jet to think before chucking a fit).
His trine leader would have thrown several tantrums and blown their cover to shrapnel within cycles. Skyfire wasn’t stupid, he’d had a lengthy association with Starscream, not to mention, the mech had a research background. He might pick up on even the slightest oddity. As it was, Thundercracker wasn’t sure if he’d managed to fool the mech completely.
Ah, Skyfire was coming to a break in his tasks now. Time to say ‘good morning’.
= = =
As he put down the equipment in his arms, right on cue (honestly, he could set a chronometer by the sparkling), he heard a chirp for attention. Smiling, Skyfire came over to pick his sparkling up, clicking back randomly before falling back into normal speech.
“Hello there, Thundercracker, did you recharge well?”
The seekerlet chirred in response, and the mech chuckled. Though he could not comprehend the sounds, Skyfire sometimes fancied that Thundercracker really was replying to him. It was pleasant, having company in the lab again. Wheeljack and Perceptor were great friends and colleagues, but the inventor was more of a physical science mech, meaning their respective scientific interests didn’t overlap much, and Perceptor covered practically every field there was in the realm of research, sometimes leaving Skyfire feeling a little out of his depth.
“That’s good. Let’s get some energon, shall we?”
Another chirr, same as before, and the shuttle smiled, wandering over to Perceptor’s lab to get the next batch of sparkling-strength energon. Passing through the doors, he saw that Ratchet was already there with his own pair of sparklings, and Perceptor was helping him with the task of feeding them.
“Morning, ‘Cep.”
The microscope turned to him, one seekerling in his arms, and indicated Thundercracker’s portion of energon with a tilt of his helm. “And good morning to you, Skyfire. I was wondering, would you consider working in my labspace today? Ratchet has agreed to let us examine Wheeljack and Starscream, and I would like your assistance in handling the sparklings.”
“Of course.” He picked up the energon, and after all three sparklings were fed and settled in a makeshift enclosure, Perceptor lifted a complicated looking object, tweaked a few dials on it, and approached the little mechs with it. The sparklings eyed him uncertainly, and Skyfire could see that Starscream was building up to pitch a tantrum. To divert the imminent shrieking fit, he placed himself between Perceptor and the sparklings with a weak little smile.
“Perceptor, perhaps you should explain what that does? Even if they can’t understand us, I find talking to Thundercracker about the tests helps me keep him calm when I need to run scans or otherwise on him.”
“Oh, of course. My apologies.”
The microscope broke out into a long, nattering speech, describing the complicated tool he was holding, what it did and what he hoped to learn from the data, and the sparklings watched him, seemingly mesmerised. Skyfire exhaled air in relief, thanking Primus that they’d avoided having their audios fritzed out today.
= = =
Starscream paid careful attention to Perceptor. Why wouldn’t he? After all, he was the brains in the Decepticons, and if any of them stood a chance of fixing this problem, it’d be him. Granted, being a sparkling was more inconvenient than he’d expected, but fraggit, he was not going to be shown up by this… nerd.
Beside him, Wheeljack clicked, sounding confused. Well, that wasn’t unexpected, and he muttered as such to the little inventor. The baby Lancia glared at him, huffing slightly.
“Contrary to what you think, I do understand Perceptor. That’s what’s confusing.”
“Hah. I’d love to hear the rationale behind that statement.” Starscream sneered back, and Thundercracker sighed, greater exposure to the microscope and the research process on their current state helping him guess where this was going.
“I understand Perceptor. Without having to scan my dictionary databases. Normally, his speech is horribly complicated, full of scientific terminology and acronyms and seventeen syllable words. This is unusually… simple.”
The blue seekerling braced for impact, watching the gears tick away in his trinemate’s processors.
“You mean to tell me that Perceptor is using baby talk on us?!”
“You should’ve kept your vocaliser muted. Did all those explosions of yours jar a processor loose or something?” As Starscream ranted on in the background, Thundercracker muttered at Wheeljack as the other two sparklings (and the two mechs, who had no clue why the baby jet had decided to start screeching) flinched at the sound.
“You know, I didn’t believe Starscream when he said that even the ‘Cons knew about my track record.”
“Trust me, when you can hear some of those explosions from the underwater base, you find out pretty slagging quick who’s making them.”
“… Slag.”
“If it makes you feel better… Okay, I can’t think of anything to say.”
A mock-depressed chirp, and Thundercracker grinned.
“Well, Starscream’s not going to stop on his own. What say we go help the mechs out?”
Wheeljack matched his grin, and raised him one diabolical gleam of the optics. “Oh, let's.”
And so, as Perceptor and Skyfire tried to quiet the tiny Air Commander, they were stopped short by the other two sparklings piling onto Starscream, nuzzling close. The pair of mechs could only watch in amusement as the baby jet’s shrieks died down, first as they were muffled by the cushioned floor of the playpen, and next as the close contact triggered sparkling instincts and dissipated his fury.
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing
Thundercracker onlined to Skyfire puttering about his lab, and for a moment, just watched the shuttle as he went about his daily routine. He tilted his helm one way, then the other, wondering just why Starscream thought so highly of the scientist. So the shuttle had been his wing mate’s research partner eons ago, but apparently their friendship hadn’t been strong enough for one to stay with the other after they’d dug him out of the ice.
But the blue seekerling found himself respecting the scientist for making that choice, to leave the only mech he had any connection to after waking from all that time in stasis. Thundercracker probably wouldn’t have done it, frag, forget probably, he couldn’t have left the ‘Cons and his trine mates, no matter how disillusioned he became with their previous faction (let’s just say he’d not been too surprised when Megatron dumped them).
And… Skyfire was nice. Thundercracker never wanted for attention or care, and he felt safe with the shuttle in a way he’d previously only associated with his wing mates. Sure, there was a lot of poking, prodding and scanning, Skyfire was trying to return them to normal after all, and he always apologised and explained, even if he thought Thundercracker couldn’t understand him.
Speaking of the tests, here the little seeker was glad he was the one imprinted on the shuttle, even if he’d only done so at first because Skywarp hated the large mech for landing them in this situation, and Starscream was already out of the running, imprinting on the medic (maybe that’d teach the screechy jet to think before chucking a fit).
His trine leader would have thrown several tantrums and blown their cover to shrapnel within cycles. Skyfire wasn’t stupid, he’d had a lengthy association with Starscream, not to mention, the mech had a research background. He might pick up on even the slightest oddity. As it was, Thundercracker wasn’t sure if he’d managed to fool the mech completely.
Ah, Skyfire was coming to a break in his tasks now. Time to say ‘good morning’.
= = =
As he put down the equipment in his arms, right on cue (honestly, he could set a chronometer by the sparkling), he heard a chirp for attention. Smiling, Skyfire came over to pick his sparkling up, clicking back randomly before falling back into normal speech.
“Hello there, Thundercracker, did you recharge well?”
The seekerlet chirred in response, and the mech chuckled. Though he could not comprehend the sounds, Skyfire sometimes fancied that Thundercracker really was replying to him. It was pleasant, having company in the lab again. Wheeljack and Perceptor were great friends and colleagues, but the inventor was more of a physical science mech, meaning their respective scientific interests didn’t overlap much, and Perceptor covered practically every field there was in the realm of research, sometimes leaving Skyfire feeling a little out of his depth.
“That’s good. Let’s get some energon, shall we?”
Another chirr, same as before, and the shuttle smiled, wandering over to Perceptor’s lab to get the next batch of sparkling-strength energon. Passing through the doors, he saw that Ratchet was already there with his own pair of sparklings, and Perceptor was helping him with the task of feeding them.
“Morning, ‘Cep.”
The microscope turned to him, one seekerling in his arms, and indicated Thundercracker’s portion of energon with a tilt of his helm. “And good morning to you, Skyfire. I was wondering, would you consider working in my labspace today? Ratchet has agreed to let us examine Wheeljack and Starscream, and I would like your assistance in handling the sparklings.”
“Of course.” He picked up the energon, and after all three sparklings were fed and settled in a makeshift enclosure, Perceptor lifted a complicated looking object, tweaked a few dials on it, and approached the little mechs with it. The sparklings eyed him uncertainly, and Skyfire could see that Starscream was building up to pitch a tantrum. To divert the imminent shrieking fit, he placed himself between Perceptor and the sparklings with a weak little smile.
“Perceptor, perhaps you should explain what that does? Even if they can’t understand us, I find talking to Thundercracker about the tests helps me keep him calm when I need to run scans or otherwise on him.”
“Oh, of course. My apologies.”
The microscope broke out into a long, nattering speech, describing the complicated tool he was holding, what it did and what he hoped to learn from the data, and the sparklings watched him, seemingly mesmerised. Skyfire exhaled air in relief, thanking Primus that they’d avoided having their audios fritzed out today.
= = =
Starscream paid careful attention to Perceptor. Why wouldn’t he? After all, he was the brains in the Decepticons, and if any of them stood a chance of fixing this problem, it’d be him. Granted, being a sparkling was more inconvenient than he’d expected, but fraggit, he was not going to be shown up by this… nerd.
Beside him, Wheeljack clicked, sounding confused. Well, that wasn’t unexpected, and he muttered as such to the little inventor. The baby Lancia glared at him, huffing slightly.
“Contrary to what you think, I do understand Perceptor. That’s what’s confusing.”
“Hah. I’d love to hear the rationale behind that statement.” Starscream sneered back, and Thundercracker sighed, greater exposure to the microscope and the research process on their current state helping him guess where this was going.
“I understand Perceptor. Without having to scan my dictionary databases. Normally, his speech is horribly complicated, full of scientific terminology and acronyms and seventeen syllable words. This is unusually… simple.”
The blue seekerling braced for impact, watching the gears tick away in his trinemate’s processors.
“You mean to tell me that Perceptor is using baby talk on us?!”
“You should’ve kept your vocaliser muted. Did all those explosions of yours jar a processor loose or something?” As Starscream ranted on in the background, Thundercracker muttered at Wheeljack as the other two sparklings (and the two mechs, who had no clue why the baby jet had decided to start screeching) flinched at the sound.
“You know, I didn’t believe Starscream when he said that even the ‘Cons knew about my track record.”
“Trust me, when you can hear some of those explosions from the underwater base, you find out pretty slagging quick who’s making them.”
“… Slag.”
“If it makes you feel better… Okay, I can’t think of anything to say.”
A mock-depressed chirp, and Thundercracker grinned.
“Well, Starscream’s not going to stop on his own. What say we go help the mechs out?”
Wheeljack matched his grin, and raised him one diabolical gleam of the optics. “Oh, let's.”
And so, as Perceptor and Skyfire tried to quiet the tiny Air Commander, they were stopped short by the other two sparklings piling onto Starscream, nuzzling close. The pair of mechs could only watch in amusement as the baby jet’s shrieks died down, first as they were muffled by the cushioned floor of the playpen, and next as the close contact triggered sparkling instincts and dissipated his fury.
