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ante_luceTitle: Baby Boom (or, Why you should always read the manual first) Chapter 8
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing
Skywarp onlined, his wingmate’s fury singing over their bond, then abruptly dying, replaced by annoyance and a sense of reluctant agreeableness. His confused chirrup brought Sideswipe over in a flash, and just as quickly, he was ensconced in the red frontliner’s arms as the mech tried to puzzle out what had broken the sparkling out of a sound recharge.
“Can’t be hungry… just ate… Flying… have tired… out…” The seekerling tuned out Sideswipe’s concerned muttering (made much easier with vorns of practice with a certain fellow seeker) to work on a puzzle of his own.
That the Lamborghini had been nothing but dedicated to his care had been surprising to all of the sparklings, with the notable exceptions of Prowl and Jazz. Sideswipe put up with all he’d thrown at the mech, from near constant flying tackles every time he clapped optics on the towering red frame, to fussing when the mech was obviously drained and really in need of recharge.
Judicious destruction of the mech’s property would have been next, but he’d been reigned in by the Autobot sparklings, as well as a developing sense that such a course of action would be taking unfair advantage (note that this did not stop him from leaving a few denta marks on a hapless automotive magazine or two).
Starscream and Thundercracker had been apprehensive when he volunteered for ‘testing duty’, despite the efforts of the Autobot sparklings to reassure them. TC in particular was rather vocal about his unease (calling him a thrice glitched idiot with slag for risk assessment programming), while Starscream chose to exhibit his concern by thumping him on the helm and reactivating his warping device, just in case.
But really, who better to aggravate a trigger happy frontliner than the mech who could make an instant getaway at any time?
Not that he’d ever had cause to warp away (in the manner that they’d been concerned about, of course), Sideswipe took care of him, defended him and worried over him like only his trine mates would have, before. Frag, the mech barely raised his voice to Skywarp, at the most issuing a stern admonishment that curiously, affected the teleporter more than any amount of yelling would have.
And now they were moving through the corridors. Skywarp blinked, wondering when that had happened. He’d never have let his guard so far down as to completely lose awareness of his surroundings. He was a seeker, a ‘Con and a teleporter to boot. Not knowing the position of everything and everyone around him could have disastrous consequences.
Clicking contemplatively to himself, Skywarp quickly realised that they were headed for Skyfire’s lab, and just as quickly started to fuss in an attempt to avoid having to see the shuttle.
= = =
Sideswipe eyed his sparkling in worry. First, Skywarp had jolted out recharge for no reason, and then been remarkably quiet as he left the room he shared with his brother. While a part of his processor logically stated that the little mech had probably had a nightmare or something, the growing protective-creator part prodded him into going to Skyfire to check that the seekerling wasn’t suffering from something.
Having a sparkling around was… interesting, to say the least. Sideswipe had never thought he’d be the caretaker sort, had always thought that he only had room in his life for one other, his twin. Caring for the hyperactive, sometimes infuriating bundle of parts that was the seekerling had caused him to start to think otherwise.
Skywarp was a handful, no doubt, getting into all sorts of mischief, giving him not a few cases of near spark failure on many occasions. Thank Primus for Sunstreaker, he didn’t think he could have kept the little mech intact for more than a day if his brother hadn’t been willing to help keep an optic on the baby jet.
That he had so much patience for Skywarp surprised him as much as it did most of the Ark (yes, he wasn’t blind, he could see the amazement on their faceplates, plain as day). Sideswipe supposed it was because he saw something of himself in his little troublemaker.
He and Sunstreaker had run wild on the streets with a pack of younglings, not a creator between them, with no rules to obey and no one to give a damn or count on but each other. And so now, with regulations to follow and a hierarchy to serve, he was always testing the boundaries, poking the Command element just to see what they would do to him.
Once, at a particularly bad moment (having a twin offline in the med bay was never fun), he’d gotten overcharged enough to spill a few details of that long ago time, and to his dismay, he couldn’t remember to who. He’d woken the next day on his berth, with no one seeming to realise he’d even gotten hold of any highgrade the night before. Reviewing his memory banks only made his already fuzzy CPU tender a protest, and Sideswipe had given up there and then. With any luck, they’d think he’d just been joking around. Again.
Frag, he couldn’t even remember the colour of their paint job, just constantly shifting planes of light and shadow and form (Sunstreaker must be filtering through their twin bond again, if he was thinking in such artistic terms), an image that was sometimes doubled (Primus, he must have been really tanked), especially against the obscenely bright orange backdrop that made up much of the Ark.
And, if he was to be truthful, he didn’t think he dared to find out.
Ah, Skywarp had perked up, chirping valiantly in protest as the sparkling seemed to recognise where they were headed, then wriggling about like a worm to escape his grasp, then flopped tiredly against his chestplates, as if in resignation. Sideswiped grinned.
“Oh, suck it up, Skywarp. It’s for your own good. And you’ll get to see Thundercracker, at least. I swear, I will never understand why you object to Skyfire so much.”
A mopey chirrup answered him, and he snickered as he walked onwards to shuttle’s lab.
= = =
Perceptor watched the sparklings, smiling at their antics. Sideswipe had come in with Skywarp, looking for Skyfire after he’d not been able to find the larger mech in his usual haunt. Skywarp had glared at Skyfire the moment the shuttle had come into his line of sight, and practically leapt from Sideswipe’s arms to join his fellow seekers and Wheeljack in the cuddle pile, just in time to smother Starscream's next squawk of protest.
Okay, so he was smiling at the antics of a not-so-sparkling too. They’d reassured the red Lamborghini that Skywarp was perfectly fine (Perceptor had even scanned the sparkling briefly), and that his waking probably had something to do with Starscream’s little tantrum earlier, but the mech still looked concerned. And watching Sideswipe fret, after all the aggravation he dealt out so easily to High Command (and the medical branch, and the minibots, and the research branch, and… well, okay, to everyone) was hilarious.
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing
Skywarp onlined, his wingmate’s fury singing over their bond, then abruptly dying, replaced by annoyance and a sense of reluctant agreeableness. His confused chirrup brought Sideswipe over in a flash, and just as quickly, he was ensconced in the red frontliner’s arms as the mech tried to puzzle out what had broken the sparkling out of a sound recharge.
“Can’t be hungry… just ate… Flying… have tired… out…” The seekerling tuned out Sideswipe’s concerned muttering (made much easier with vorns of practice with a certain fellow seeker) to work on a puzzle of his own.
That the Lamborghini had been nothing but dedicated to his care had been surprising to all of the sparklings, with the notable exceptions of Prowl and Jazz. Sideswipe put up with all he’d thrown at the mech, from near constant flying tackles every time he clapped optics on the towering red frame, to fussing when the mech was obviously drained and really in need of recharge.
Judicious destruction of the mech’s property would have been next, but he’d been reigned in by the Autobot sparklings, as well as a developing sense that such a course of action would be taking unfair advantage (note that this did not stop him from leaving a few denta marks on a hapless automotive magazine or two).
Starscream and Thundercracker had been apprehensive when he volunteered for ‘testing duty’, despite the efforts of the Autobot sparklings to reassure them. TC in particular was rather vocal about his unease (calling him a thrice glitched idiot with slag for risk assessment programming), while Starscream chose to exhibit his concern by thumping him on the helm and reactivating his warping device, just in case.
But really, who better to aggravate a trigger happy frontliner than the mech who could make an instant getaway at any time?
Not that he’d ever had cause to warp away (in the manner that they’d been concerned about, of course), Sideswipe took care of him, defended him and worried over him like only his trine mates would have, before. Frag, the mech barely raised his voice to Skywarp, at the most issuing a stern admonishment that curiously, affected the teleporter more than any amount of yelling would have.
And now they were moving through the corridors. Skywarp blinked, wondering when that had happened. He’d never have let his guard so far down as to completely lose awareness of his surroundings. He was a seeker, a ‘Con and a teleporter to boot. Not knowing the position of everything and everyone around him could have disastrous consequences.
Clicking contemplatively to himself, Skywarp quickly realised that they were headed for Skyfire’s lab, and just as quickly started to fuss in an attempt to avoid having to see the shuttle.
= = =
Sideswipe eyed his sparkling in worry. First, Skywarp had jolted out recharge for no reason, and then been remarkably quiet as he left the room he shared with his brother. While a part of his processor logically stated that the little mech had probably had a nightmare or something, the growing protective-creator part prodded him into going to Skyfire to check that the seekerling wasn’t suffering from something.
Having a sparkling around was… interesting, to say the least. Sideswipe had never thought he’d be the caretaker sort, had always thought that he only had room in his life for one other, his twin. Caring for the hyperactive, sometimes infuriating bundle of parts that was the seekerling had caused him to start to think otherwise.
Skywarp was a handful, no doubt, getting into all sorts of mischief, giving him not a few cases of near spark failure on many occasions. Thank Primus for Sunstreaker, he didn’t think he could have kept the little mech intact for more than a day if his brother hadn’t been willing to help keep an optic on the baby jet.
That he had so much patience for Skywarp surprised him as much as it did most of the Ark (yes, he wasn’t blind, he could see the amazement on their faceplates, plain as day). Sideswipe supposed it was because he saw something of himself in his little troublemaker.
He and Sunstreaker had run wild on the streets with a pack of younglings, not a creator between them, with no rules to obey and no one to give a damn or count on but each other. And so now, with regulations to follow and a hierarchy to serve, he was always testing the boundaries, poking the Command element just to see what they would do to him.
Once, at a particularly bad moment (having a twin offline in the med bay was never fun), he’d gotten overcharged enough to spill a few details of that long ago time, and to his dismay, he couldn’t remember to who. He’d woken the next day on his berth, with no one seeming to realise he’d even gotten hold of any highgrade the night before. Reviewing his memory banks only made his already fuzzy CPU tender a protest, and Sideswipe had given up there and then. With any luck, they’d think he’d just been joking around. Again.
Frag, he couldn’t even remember the colour of their paint job, just constantly shifting planes of light and shadow and form (Sunstreaker must be filtering through their twin bond again, if he was thinking in such artistic terms), an image that was sometimes doubled (Primus, he must have been really tanked), especially against the obscenely bright orange backdrop that made up much of the Ark.
And, if he was to be truthful, he didn’t think he dared to find out.
Ah, Skywarp had perked up, chirping valiantly in protest as the sparkling seemed to recognise where they were headed, then wriggling about like a worm to escape his grasp, then flopped tiredly against his chestplates, as if in resignation. Sideswiped grinned.
“Oh, suck it up, Skywarp. It’s for your own good. And you’ll get to see Thundercracker, at least. I swear, I will never understand why you object to Skyfire so much.”
A mopey chirrup answered him, and he snickered as he walked onwards to shuttle’s lab.
= = =
Perceptor watched the sparklings, smiling at their antics. Sideswipe had come in with Skywarp, looking for Skyfire after he’d not been able to find the larger mech in his usual haunt. Skywarp had glared at Skyfire the moment the shuttle had come into his line of sight, and practically leapt from Sideswipe’s arms to join his fellow seekers and Wheeljack in the cuddle pile, just in time to smother Starscream's next squawk of protest.
Okay, so he was smiling at the antics of a not-so-sparkling too. They’d reassured the red Lamborghini that Skywarp was perfectly fine (Perceptor had even scanned the sparkling briefly), and that his waking probably had something to do with Starscream’s little tantrum earlier, but the mech still looked concerned. And watching Sideswipe fret, after all the aggravation he dealt out so easily to High Command (and the medical branch, and the minibots, and the research branch, and… well, okay, to everyone) was hilarious.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-02 07:40 pm (UTC)Great, as usual!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-03 10:37 am (UTC)