GRV. Lamont Farm, and DC. New Threats

[dens_extra_pups]

Ratchet: *has somehow wound up with a WakeJumper snoozing on her in the course of the night*

Perceptor: *murmuring in his sleep* ...Point five four...

WakeJumper: *soft little clicks, snuggle, happy sounds. Found the nice, warm big*

Ratchet: *turns her head a bit and then unshutters her optics* *thought she heard someone talking. Well, other than Perceptor.*

Catherine: *has apparently decided that sitting on the barn floor next to Jazz is more comfortable than her hammock* *softly, even though she suspects nobody's awake enough to be listening* And I don't even know if I'm ready to start dating. I mean... Dallas is nice, don't get me wrong. But I don't know if he and I would even be compatible as a couple... *sounds a bit sad*

Jazz: *ponders for a moment, then slowly quirks a brow ridge* Ya... try kissin' 'im?

Catherine: ... *quieter* Noooo. What if I did and he freaked out? I could get in serious trouble for that.

Jazz: Oh. *frowwwn*

Catherine: *still quiet* 'N I really don't wanna go through being rejected. *leans and rests her forehead on her arms* *muffled* Was bad 'nough getting told I was too heavy for the Navy. *starting to go off tangent a bit as a result of not sleeping very much*

Jazz: *turns his head and looks at the guy that was sleeping on the other side of him. Brow quirk*

Dallas: *isn't a pretty sleeper when he's got room to spread out. Is also snoring away*

Ratchet: *overheard that, will compare her scan data of Catherine to the average BMI for females of her height. And find that Catherine is well within the acceptable range of healthy BMIs* *soft snort, and then she's blinking as WakeJumper reaches up and patpats her face*

Catherine: *mumbles something about being scary*

Jazz: *gentle shake for Dallas*

Dallas: *awake! And sitting up to blink blearily and rub at his eyes* 'S somethin' wrong?

Jazz: *nudges him closer and asks what the heck the Navy was thinking by telling Kitty she weighs too much*

Dallas: *bit of a 'bhuh?' expression as he chases away sleep-foggy brain* *once he's processed the question* They prolly went by her height 'n weight. And didn't take her BMI int' consideration.

Jazz: *frown* *then really really softly* She wants a kiss.

Dallas: *both brows up, and a bit of a blush coming to his face now*

Jazz: *nudge, raise brow ridges*

Catherine: *mutter mutter, isn't all the way awake at the moment* 'Sides... Why would someone 's cute as Dallas be interested inna klutz like me?

Dallas: *so much blush*

Jazz: *nudge Dallas!*

Dallas: *startled squawk before he can help himself*

Catherine: *startles awake* *blink blink*

WakeJumper: *sits up, scoldy clicks! Peoples is sleepin'!*

Perceptor: *startled cry as he clings to Ratchet* What? What?

Jazz: *deep, shaky sigh*

Ratchet: *hand on Perceptor's back, soft, soothing rumble* There's no danger.

WakeJumper: *scoots over to try and herd Perceptor closer to the big warm's chest* *soft clicks*

Dallas: *facepalming and calling himself an idiot*

Catherine: *trying to figure out just what the heck happened*

Jazz: *sudden wince* Guys?

Ratchet: *looks* Yes, Jazz?

WakeJumper: *oh, does he need cuddles too? Will scoot over that way*

Jazz: Think... somethin' jes' broke. *intakes rattle a bit*

Ratchet: *SCANNING*

Catherine: *on her feet and going to get her tools*

WakeJumper: O_O *gonna hide behind the big warm now, kthx. Can tell the bigs are worried about something*

Ratchet: *softly* Perceptor, I need help.

Perceptor: *looks up with wide optics, and then understands and flips into scanner mode*

Ratchet: *scans again with Perceptor's help* *soft sound* One of his filters is... All that's left of it is dust.

Dallas: ... *hurries to see if he can't find a replacement from one of the dead 'Cons*

Catherine: *back with her tools, and the sedation gun*

Jazz: *rattling worse. Optics shuttered with pain*

Dallas: *from where he's looking at one of the shells* What part of the bot should I look in for a replacement filter?

Catherine: *soothing sounds, will sedate Jazz after getting the okay from Ratchet*

Jazz: *shaking stops, but rattling continues*

Ratchet: *tells Dallas the approximate location, is going to set to work on at least cleaning out the remains of the filter*

WakeJumper: *scales Ratchet's back and hides her face against the big*

Perceptor: *back to root mode* Do you need assistance, love?

Ratchet: That would be appreciated. *trying to stay calm and focused*

Perceptor: *over he comes and winces* Oil will moisten this dust and make it less harmful to human filters. *turns and runs out of the barn*

WakeJumper: *gonna peek over Ratchet's shoulder and watch what the big's hands are doing*

Ratchet: *soft clicks as she keeps an optic on Jazz's vitals and makes sure Catherine doesn't get close enough to inhale much of the filter dust*

Dallas: *grabbed a few extra parts that looked important and related to the filter, just in case*

Perceptor: *back, followed by a slightly staggering Ironhide who is holding a couple oil drums*

Ironhide: *squint, stumble* Where... m'I put 'em?

Ratchet: *indicates where to put the oil drums as Catherine and Dallas scoot out of the frontliner's way*

Ironhide: *drops one slightly. Booonggg* *wince, growl*

WakeJumper: *startled squeak* *big optics are a go*

Ratchet: *will bring the oil drum over to Jazz*

Perceptor: *fusses at Dallas and Catherin, asking them to stay back till Ratchet's nullified the threat*

Catherine: *bites her lower lip, but stays put*

Dallas: Here. *offers the parts*

Perceptor: Yes, yes, Captain MacKenzie. Please, just wait a moment. Ratchet will soon have the danger nullified. *slender hands upraised toward the human man*

WakeJumper: *down off of Ratchet's back, clickstorms and moves to grab the parts. The big big needs these!*

Dallas: *makes sure WakeJumper won't drop the parts, then he's moving, almost automatically, to put a reassuring arm around Catherine's shoulders*

Catherine: *if she notices this, she doesn't show it. Right now, all her attention's on watching Ratchet deal with the dust from the filter*

Ironhide: *frown. Leeeaaaan*

Dallas: *glances up towards the old soldier* Maybe you'd better go lie down, Ironhide.

Ironhide: *frowns at him* Buh?

Perceptor: Oh, my stars and garters. Please don't misstep or fall. *scared spitless but takes on protective attitude toward humans*

Dallas: ... *will guide Catherine away from Ironhide*

Ratchet: There... That should keep the dust under control. *will move to guide WakeJumper over to Perceptor, and then she's attempting to usher Ironhide out of the barn*

Perceptor: What? Oh. Yes. *takes parts and goes to Jazz. Is soon deep in a lecture on how to clean up the oily dust and install the new filter as he demonstrates*

WakeJumper: *attentive student, even as she clickstorms*

Catherine: *moving to help*

Perceptor: My stars. I fear me our poor Jazz is far from out of the woods yet. Yes, WakeJumper, that is the tool that I need next. Very good!

WakeJumper: *soft little clicks as she and Catherine help Perceptor*

Perceptor: And now a quick twist... Oh dear. I haven't enough power in my servos. *worried clicks*

WakeJumper: *offers assistance*

Catherine: Maybe if we work together to get it.

Perceptor: *perks as he hears the part click* Oh well done, WakeJumper! Well, well done!

WakeJumper: n_n *click*

Ratchet: *blink blink* *soft chuckle from the doorway* I think we were right in our initial assessment, Perceptor.

Perceptor: *turns and looks up at Ratchet, his small face beaming* She clearly already has rudimentary repair programming.

Ratchet: *moves to scan Jazz again, will gently rub WakeJumper's back and get happily clickstormed at* She'll need more programming soon, I believe.

Perceptor: Will she? I fear I have no data or programming pertaining to the rearing of hatchlings. *last check for the part and then starts cleaning up the last of the oil and blick* We should preserve this for Jazz to consume.

Ratchet: *nods* I have vague recollections of being given more programming when I started showing a rudimentary grasp of repairs. *will get a container for the oil and blick* Hopefully, it will aid in his recovery.

WakeJumper: *gonna scale Ratchet's back again, and cling* *has decided she likes this big best, but the blue big is alright as well*

Dallas: *quietly reassuring Catherine, even as the medic clings to him and hides her face*

Catherine: *working on no sleep, has reached her emotional limits again. Took almost three weeks, and the whole no sleep thing to do it this time*

Perceptor: *distracted from being gleeful about WakeJumper's development as he senses Catherine's distress* *concerned look toward her, and then looks up at his girlfriend again* *quietly* Something's amiss.

Ratchet: *blink* *scans Catherine* *facepalm* *firmly* Catherine, go to bed.

Perceptor: *softly* And might I suggest that you use an actual bed this time, Miss Wyatt?

Catherine: *makes a face* *and then she's squawking as Dallas picks her up and carries her to the house*

Perceptor: *sighs as he watches them go, then looks up at Ratchet quizzically* Have they kissed yet?

Ratchet: No, unfortunately. It would do them both a world of good. *attention back to Jazz*

Perceptor: They have been courting? Or have I been misreading human actions in the light of what Cybertronians would do in their case? *also checking the patient*

Ratchet: If that was courting, they're going about it in a very strange way.

Perceptor: *bewildered* He's caring for her. Attending to her needs. *last little click on the filter and then nods as it hums to life*

Ratchet: She hasn't quite grasped that she's being courted.

Perceptor: Ahhhhh. *shakes head in bewilderment* But if I can see it.

Ratchet: We may have to take somewhat drastic measures. I do believe locking them in a closet might work. *double-checking that the filter's working properly*

Perceptor: *such a shocked look he's giving you, Ratchet*

Ratchet: *calmly* It worked to get Optimus and Elita to talk to one another.

Perceptor: o.0 It did? When?

Ratchet: Many vorns before Wheeljack brought the sun to Cybertron.

Perceptor: And... you did it? *steps out of the way so that she can close Jazz's panels*

Ratchet: Well, it wasn't just my doing. *quieter* Megatron helped. *closing panels*

Perceptor: Ah. *looks down with a shuddery sigh*

Ratchet: *quietly* Back then, he wasn't as he is now.

Perceptor: Yes. I remember.

Ratchet: *glances over her shoulder and gets clicked at by WakeJumper* ...

Perceptor: *head bowed as he looks at the faded and tattered memories of that time and of the bot he'd been created as part of*

WakeJumper: *insistant clicking. Is time for sleeps again! Sleeps and cuddles!*

Ratchet: *returns her attention to Perceptor, since she's not quite sure what's got WakeJumper clickstorming. Will move to gently lift the small mech and cuddle him close*

Perceptor: *small cry and startled flail, but then leans against Ratchet and sobs*

Ratchet: *soft clicks, will move to sit down next to Jazz*

WakeJumper: *scoots around to Ratchet's front to give the blue big cuddles* *is trying to remember the words that the one squishy big and the squishy little were trying to teach her earlier today* *quiet and hesitant* Mama. Papa. *snuggle*

Ratchet: *blink blink, looks down at the hatchling cuddled against her chest*

WakeJumper: *slight frown. Isn't sure those were the right words. Will try a different word* [Mentor?]

Perceptor: *soft gasp and lifts his head, shocked out of his grieving as he just now realizes what the hatchling said first* Ratchet... did you hear what she said?!

Ratchet: *nod* *softly* I did. *so surprised*

WakeJumper: *oh, the blue big's not making sad sounds anymore!* *clickstorm*

Perceptor: *looks up* You know what "Mama" and "Papa" mean?

Ratchet: *nods* It is how humans say "Protoform batch initiators".

Perceptor: *shakes his head* It is how they say [Mentor]. *uses the intonation of the word most laced with affection and respect*

WakeJumper: *looks to the blue big* *click* *reaches and patpats a shoulder* [Mine?] *attention on Ratchet. Patpats chest* [Mine?]

Perceptor: *softly, his voice touched softly with static as he uses the Decepticon dialect that the Hatchling knows* [Yes, WakeJumper. Ratchet is your mentor. And she values you greatly.] *said this fluently and with perfect tone and pronunciation*

WakeJumper: *slight headtilt* *patpats Perceptor again* [Mentor, too.]

Ratchet: *slight quirk of a grin*

Perceptor: *hesitates and looks up at the femme who is holding him and WakeJumper, his blue optics troubled and shyly uncertain*

Ratchet: *softly* It seems we've become parents. *will gently touch her forehead to Perceptor's*

WakeJumper: *cuddles Ratchet and Perceptor* *happily* [My mentors. Mine.]

Perceptor: *intakes catch, and then he's shuttering his optics for a moment as his head rests against Ratchet's. Lifts it then to look up at the hatchling* *gasp* Ratchet, look at her optics.

Ratchet: *looks, half-expecting WakeJumper's optics to be dimming* *soft sound of surprise* They're blue...

Perceptor: The colour of a sunlit ocean. My stars and garters.

WakeJumper: *headtilt, click. Doesn't understand why Mentors are sounding surprised*

Ratchet: I've never encountered anyone with that optic color before.

Perceptor: *scans* They are no longer changing. That is to be her colour for the rest of her vorns.

Ratchet: *nod* *quieter* The other hatchlings will likely be settling into their final optic colors soon.

WakeJumper: *blink blinks a bit, before snuggling the blue big again*

Perceptor: It still amazes me how the Fallen's evil was able to taint even the innocent and newly born. *arm around the snuggly hatchling*

Ratchet: *another nod* Yes... But thankfully, it seems only to affect the color of their optics, and their appearance, to a degree.

WakeJumper: *issa happy bitlet, will shutter her optics and purr* *has warm, has a full tank, has her mentors. Everything is alright in her world*

Perceptor: Yes, even our single sparklet shows no propensity toward undue violence, despite who his female batch initiator is. *deep, weary sigh*

Ratchet: *gently* Get some rest, Perceptor. I'm right here.

Perceptor: I think that our... our daughter... *another soft gasp, and he's sitting and looking blank with shock as that phrase sinks in fully*

Ratchet: *concerned, will scan Perceptor*

WakeJumper: *just went to sleep. Issa warm, purry bundle of parts*

Perceptor: *is undamaged, and he's blinking now and getting very hot on his faceplates*

Ratchet: *quietly* Perceptor, circulate deeply.

Perceptor: *quietly* You have no idea what it means, that we are WakeJumper's ...parents, do you?

Ratchet: *a bit puzzled* We're going to be expected to care for her and guide her.

Perceptor: *still quiet, his optics dropped to his hands as he pulls away from WakeJumper and Ratchet* Among the tribes, during the vorns while we battled without light, a mech would present a femme with a hatchling as a proposal. They were considered a pair after that by their tribemates.

Ratchet: *blink blink* o_o Oh...

Ironhide: *almighty crash outside* What the s@#$@#@#??? Who left this slaggin' tractor here?!

WakeJumper: *awake! Okay, maybe not. Splatsleeps on Mentor again*

Ratchet: *startled flinch before she can stop herself*

Epps: *from the loft* @#$@#@ it, 'Hide! Go ta bed! Quit staggerin' around $#@$@faced!

Matt: B-Bedt-time. *is trying to herd kittens into the barn*

Ratchet: *looks up to the loft* Epps, please refrain from obscenities while there are hatchlings present.

Epps: Uh... *doesn't sound awake* Right. [Ironhide, stop staggering around $@@#$#@faced and enter sleep cycle!]

Perceptor: *helpless laughter* He curses in Cybertronian as well.

Ratchet: *cycles air and lets it out in a sigh. Wants so dearly to facepalm, but she's holding WakeJumper*

Matt: B-better p-pronounciation th'n m-me. *one last attempt to herd kittens into the barn after the little fuzzbutts pounced on his feet in the house while he was getting a drink of water*

Perceptor: *peers at the human man* You also speak one of the Cybertronian dialects?

Matt: A l-li'l. S-s'me 'f wh't W-Wheeljack w-w's s-sayin' 'un d-day. S-S'meth'n' 'b-bout p-parts?

Perceptor: *missed Wheeljack's hacking of the television waves to use the Lamont television as a communicator* ...Knowing Wheeljack's usual vocabulary, that could have been anything from a report on supplies at the DC base, to something best not said in polite company.

Matt: *shrug* L-Lizzy 'n Xiaob-bei were th're t-too.

Ratchet: *sigh* Wheeljack is unable to discern what differentiates obscenities from normal speech.

Perceptor: *grave nod* Indeed.

Matt: *considering look, is thinking about repeating what he overheard Wheeljack saying*

Blackout: *lets out a soft screech somewhere out in the midnight darkness, calling for her mate*

Ironhide: *unprintable grumbling in reply, had been passed out by the tractor*

Matt: *looks to where Ironhide is* Di'n't s-sound l-like th't though...

Perceptor: Blackout is speaking one of the soldier model dialects. Ironhide is cursing in English.

Matt: *small nod* Wh't W-Wheeljack w-w's s-sayin' w's "[If we can get more parts, we can build another energon still.]"

Perceptor: Ahhh. For a mercy, she was not cursing.

Ratchet: *chuckles* No, that wasn't cursing.

Matt: *expression lightens* G-Gotcha. *small smile*

Perceptor: *quiet translation*

Matt: *blinks and nods* Th' s-still'd 'elp y'all out, r-rahght?

Perceptor: *nods* It would indeed. *then glances up at Ratchet and blushes, his face glowing softly in the dimness of the barn*

Matt: *nod, will stoop to pick up the kitten that's trying to nom his toes*

Perceptor: *quietly* Mathew... there have been some new... er... Changes in... the... er... format of... *hides face for a moment* Ratchet and I have adopted WakeJumper, and we're married now. *squeaks and hides face again*

Matt: *blink blink* *surprised* Ohhh. C-c'ngratulations.

Ratchet: *nod* Thank you, Mathew.

WakeJumper: *ragdoll hatchling!*

Perceptor: *shaky intake of breath as he lowers his hands* Yes. Th... Thank you, Mathew.

Matt: D-d' y'all n-need anehth'n'?

Perceptor: *looks up at Ratchet* Not to my knowledge...

Ratchet: *thinking and shaking her head* I don't believe so.

Matt: G-Gotcha. *will move to head for the house, taking the bitey kitten with him*

WakeJumper: *unshutters optics for a moment. Sees what Matt has* Rubber Ducky!

Matt: *turns to look to WakeJumper* 'T's R-Rubber D-Ducky's b-bedt-time.

WakeJumper: *small frown as she works this over in her head, then a nod. SnuggaMentor*

Perceptor: *slight smile for the babybot* I only hope you have no untoward effects from all this interrupted sleep.

WakeJumper: *click* *reach*

Matt: *chuckle* N-Nahght. *heads for the house*

Ratchet: *nods as she watches Matt head for the house* *attention back to Perceptor and WakeJumper. Soft chuckle as she realizes WakeJumper's trying to get Perceptor to come snuggle as well*

Perceptor: *clicks softly to WakeJumper as he tries despite his diminutive stature and slender form to draw the hatchling close in a parental and protective way*

WakeJumper: *happy sounds, splatsleeps again* *purrrrr*

Ratchet: *moves to get comfortable and hold Perceptor and WakeJumper close. She'll reverse the sedation on Jazz later in the morning. after everyone's gotten more sleep*


Meanwhile, in the farmhouse


slender hatchling: *looking at Cathrine and holding her nose as she's seen the human children do. Quiet clickstorm*

Catherine: *not amused at being carried up the stairs* *raised brow at the hatchling* What? I was working in the barn.

hatchling: *blue optics sparkle as she points to the bathroom where the nice big tub and shower are*

Dallas: *will set Catherine on her feet* Go wash up. I'll make sure there's a bed ready for you.

Catherine: *razzes Dallas and ducks into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her so he can't see her blush*

hatchling: *runs into the door and meeps softly*

Catherine: *opens the door and moves to fuss over the hatchling*

hatchling: Bweeeeeoooo. *optics bright with happiness now, and she plays a snatch of soft music from no recognizable source as she goes to the tub and looks into it*

Catherine: *chuckles and moves to close the door again* Silly kid. *stretches and makes a face as her back pops*

hatchling: *soft sound of dismay as she looks around at that pop*

Catherine: 'M okay. *and now she's moving to shuck her clothes so she can get a bath going*

hatchling: *comes to help with the clothes, once more playing her soft little personal melody*

Catherine: *is glad she's been sticking to sports bras lately. It makes getting ready for a bath easier* *watching the hatchling, will click softly to the little one*

hatchling: *studies bra curiously, and then puts it on*

Catherine: *snerk* I think that's a bit big on you, hon.

hatchling: *sings and dances* *softly*

Catherine: What, so it's show time now? *chuckle*

hatchling: *poses like she saw one of the characters do at the end of a song on Jesse's old 'Jem' cartoons*

Catherine: *chuckles* Silly kiddo. *checks the temperature of the bath water*

hatchling: *sings and dances some more, then stops to look at the bra on her feet* Booooo.

Catherine: *makes sure the door is shut securely, then she's climbing into the bath and sighing with relief as the warm water soothes aching muscles*

hatchling: *scoots over and grabs the loofa, rubs it gently on Catherine's head*

Catherine: *chuckles and reaches for the loofa* Thanks.

hatchling: *softly* Babeh's turn. *climbs in tub*

Catherine: *chuckle* Alright, but no drinking the shampoo.

hatchling: *distracted by the pretty bottle of homemade shampoo*

Catherine: Showtime... Here. *offering to scrub a bitty back*

hatchling: *turns back quizzically* Show... time?

Catherine: *nod*

Showtime: Babeh's Showtime?

Catherine: Yup. *small smile*

Showtime: *says something softly in Decepticon, and then holds up the bar soap*

Catherine: *chuckles, will take the soap and proceed to scrub Showtime clean*


Meanwhile. Guest room


three hatchlings: *blinking sleepily at Dallas from the big old sleigh bed*

Dallas: Well... Darn. *so amused though. The hatchlings are pretty cute*

little alert male: Well darn. o.O

Dallas: *chuckle* I'll just get one of the spare mattresses for Miss Wyatt. *moves to do so*

lam: *hops out of bed and follows him, speaking softly in his precise little voice* *and then stops to squeal and point at a mouse*

Saelen: *sleepily* Who's raisin' a red alert?

Dallas: The li'l bit. *chuckles and moves to chase the mouse out of the room*

lam: *pokes head into Jake's room to speak softly to his batch siblings who are sleeping there, then eeeks softly about the spider going across the ceiling above Jake's overladen bed*

Dallas: Easy, Red Alert... *checking to see what has the hatchling so spooked*

Red Alert: *points to the unknown entity!*

Jake: *rolls over carefully, opens one eye, and sees the spider coming down on a line toward him* *reaches for the empty paper cup that's on his bedside table, will use that to catch the spider*

hatchling with a whitewash skunk stripe: *peeks sleepily* Mornin'?

Jake: *headshake* Sleep. *will put the cup with the spider on his bedside table* *soft click, offers cuddles*

whitewashed hatchling: *quiet clicks as he snuggles Jake and his batch siblings and goes back to sleep*

Red Alert: *tiptoes over to look into the cup, and then picks it up and carries it away*

Dallas: *soft chuckle as he watches the little guy head silently down the stairs*

toilet flush: *comes from the bathroom, followed by soft, twittering hatchling laughter*

Dallas: *snerk*

Saelen: What're you doin', Captain MacKenzie?

Dallas: Getting a bed ready for Miss Wyatt.

Saelen: ...You found a space without baby robots on it?

Jake: *soft chuckle*

Dallas: I'm going to get a spare mattress.

Saelen: Good luck with that. She might have to share with Denver.

Dallas: ...What do you mean, Sae?

Saelen: *turns over and mutters an apology as a soft twitter protests the move* Look in Denver's room 'n see.

Dallas: ... *will move to do so* Oh. *can see two mattresses on the floor, one on top of the other. And both have hatchlings piled on top*

Saelen: *from back in Jake's room* Baby sammich.

Dallas: Yup.

Denver: *sleeping in her bed, doesn't even seem that bothered by the fact that there are a couple of hatchlings snuggling against her*

hatchling: *turns his head and blinks glowing purple optics toward Dallas, then pulls the quilt up and vanishes under it* Thrrpt!

Dallas: *soft snerk, will move to see if there's any free bed space elsewhere*

Saelen: There still only two in with Denver? *sinking back into sleep, lulled by the purring of the little tiny bit of machinery snuggled against his back*

Dallas: Looks like it.

Saelen: Good. Then there's room. *lifts his head and looks toward the bathroom as the sound of a slip, a splash, and a blurble comes from it. Snerk*

Dallas: *frown, will move to see what's going on in the bathroom*

Showtime: *hears the doorknob rattle* Babeh's inna tub!

Dallas: 'Re y'all alright? *worried*

Catherine: *laughing herself silly now*

Showtime: Peepin' Tommy!

Saelen: *sleepy snerk as he hears that*

Dallas: *pause* *facepalm*

Catherine: *still laughing*

Showtime: *sudden soft screech of Decepticon as she looks around with alarm*

Catherine: *sits up* Showtime? What's wrong, sweetie?

Dallas: What's going on?

Showtime: *more Decepticon, then remembers herself* Housecoat! Gonna streakin'!

Dallas: *and now it's his turn to laugh. Will go see if he can find a bathrobe, or possibly Catherine's pajamas*

Catherine: *snerks and moves to get out of the tub. Will wrap herself in a towel in the meantime*

Showtime: *pulls out the plug! And then moves to put it in her mouth*

Catherine: *reaches to stop that from happening* That's not food, hon.

Showtime: Bebeh's 'ungreh.

Catherine: Well, just lemme get clothes on, and we'll see about getting you some fuel.

Showtime: *tilts head and clicks softly, then forgets and starts to put the plug in her mouth again*

Catherine: *offers some of that sliver of glycerine soap she just snagged out of the soap dish in exchange*

Showtime: *clicks and trills softly as she makes the trade and then munches on the soap*

Catherine: *will put the plug someplace safe*

Showtime: *looks around, clicking softly. Then decides she wants out and unlocks the door* Bebeh sleepy

Catherine: *makes sure her towel is wrapped securely, will move to open the door. And then laugh as Dallas sticks a bundle of clothes through the opening*

Dallas: *not looking! Is holding Catherine's pajamas bundle where the tall woman can grab it easily. Had to ask Hattie for help finding underthings, since he wasn't comfortable with the idea of going through a lady's things*

Showtime: Peepin' Tommy! *takes bundle and shuts door!*

Hattie: *is laughing heartily now. Heard that!*

Denver: *groggy inquiry about what's going on*

Saelen: *turns over and hugs the bitty bot at his back* Dallas did it.

Denver: ... Dal, go t' bed. *splatsleep, is snuggled by the two bitties sharing bed space with her*

Red Alert: *comes puttering back from wherever he'd gone and looks at Dallas inquiringly* Bbbb?

Dallas: *sigh* Bedtime. *offers to pick Red Alert up*

Red Alert: *arms around the little big. Head on shoulder. Big sigh. Doesn't even look up as Showtime opens the bathroom door and makes a dash for the babby sammich*

Catherine: *emerges a few minutes later, fully dressed for bed*

Dallas: *nods towards Denver's room* About the only bedspace left is with Denver.

Catherine: *small nod, will move that way*

Showtime: *sees Catherine coming and peeps happily from where she's joined the hatchling pile on the stacked mattresses*

Catherine: *chuckles* Silly kid.

Hattie: *goes to see if she can find another blanket*

Showtime: *soft screech as she asks if Catherine will come and sleep with her*

Catherine: I dunno if I'd fit in there, Showtime.

Showtime: *sits up and looks around, then hops down and heads for Denver's bed* *pulls back covers!*

Catherine: *snerk, will move to lay down on the bed*

Showtime: *joins her and then pulls up the covers*

Catherine: *closes her eyes and sighs quietly*

Dallas: *will move to situate Red Alert and himself at the foot of the bed, head at Catherine's feet, since the woman sleeps like the dead once she's out, and he won't be in danger of getting his head kicked that way*

Denver: *just inadvertently kicked Dallas' foot*

Dallas: *soft grunt, ignores the kick in favor of settling down to sleep*


Next day


Smokescreen: *rubbing his face groggily as he passes out small cubes of energon to the hatchlings who are in an eager, jostling line going past him*

Bluestreak: *helping give hatchlings their breakfast*

Senaiji: *standing and watching, thinking of how Ratchet thinks Ironhide is keeping track of the Cybertronian babies, Ironhide thinks Smokescreen is doing it, Smokescreen thinks Bluestreak is doing it, and Bluestreak thinks the sunrise is beautiful* *slightly lopsided grin*

Red Alert: *sits companionably beside the human man to sip his energon, glances toward the tent by the house a few times with thoughtful little trills, clicks, and squeaks*

Senaiji: *looks to the tent as well* I think they're still asleep.

Red Alert: *looks at him and blinks, then shakes head* *sippy sip!*

WakeJumper: *telling Papa about her breakfast*

Perceptor: *smiles at the energetic female hatchling* I agree. The flavour of the fuel has quite improved of late.

Showtime: *looks at the little blue big, then looks at her cube and tastes it for the first time* *lip smacking sounds*

Chrome: *shaking his booty as he stands in line*

Ratchet: *making sure Jazz is able to sit up on his own, is keeping a close optic on the mech*

Jazz: *lists to one side till he's propped up with a straw bale. But even in his unsteady state he has a grin for his caregiver*

Ratchet: *just a bit fussy right now. Bear with her*

Kae Yau: *trading BS for BS with some of the soldiers*

Epps: Where the #$#@$ is Fig? *massive yawn, and then nearly gives himself whiplash as he catches the scent of ham cooking* ...Is that for us?

Kae Yau: *looking towards the smell of the ham* One way t' be findin' out. *grin*

Epps: Yeah. *squint* Wait'll somebody yells "Breakfast".

Matt: *from where he's feeding animals* Incomin'!

Kae Yau: *looks to the driveway to see who might be coming*

dust storm: *whips around the corner, and then billows forward as Wheeljack carefully meanders up the driveway*

Wheeljack: *toots horn* Hey, Ratchet!

Ratchet: *looks up from fussing over Jazz* Wheeljack, what are you doing here? *surprised*

Bluestreak: *just spotted Wheeljack, will scoot over to where she's parked, a big grin on his face*

Wheeljack: *pops open her driver side door to let out a black-haired lady in a very expensive pair of red leather shoes* Whaddya mean, what am I doin' here?

Smokescreen: *frowning toward the femme as she makes no notice of his brother*

Ratchet: Is everything alright in Washington? *concerned*

WakeJumper: *clickstorming at the person Mama's talking to* *You're interrupting breakfast!*

Wheeljack: *transforms once Bathilda's out on the ground* 'Course it is! *and then her arms are around Bluestreak and she's nuzzling his cheek* Hey, kid. Miss me?

Bluestreak: *snuggle* *quietly* Yes. *happy snuzzle*

Senaiji: ...Bathilda, I thought you weren't going to be buying any more shoes.

Bathilda: *SO SMUG* I did not buy zese. Zey vere in mein new office.

Ratchet: *slight frown* *is trying to figure out why Wheeljack drove all this way*

WakeJumper: *clicks are turning a bit scoldy!*

Wheeljack: *cuddles her mech, then gives him a kiss on the cheek and looks at Ratchet* Oh yeah. Banshee got a pretty trim, so I grabbed one on the way here too. *turns so that Ratchet can see the large, colour change, psychedelic bumper sticker she's wearing, which says proudly and boldly, "Not all Who Wander are Lost"*

Ratchet: *blink* *SNERK* *amused facepalm*

Chrome: *finger in WakeJumper's mouth*

WakeJumper: *blink blink*

Perceptor: *looks at the sticker, and then looks up at Ratchet* Er...?

Epps: *reads the sticker and starts cackling* She told you, Ratchet!

Ratchet: *to Perceptor* I've lost count of the number of times since Wheeljack arrived on Earth that I've yelled "Wheeljack, are you lost again?" over comms.

Epps: *laughs harder* Yup. Makes it real hard ta sleep in the cab.

Wheeljack: *smug grin, and then looks down at Bathilda*

Bathilda: *is explaining how she got the shoes* Vell, vhen Mearing qvit, I vas ze vone zat vas put in charge of cleaning her office. Und I found zese in ze closet. But vhen I tried to explain to ze voman vhat she had left behind, she interrupted me und told me zat she did not vant anyzing from "zat place". *smirk* Und hung up vithout anozher vord.

Kae Yau: *laughing her butt off now*

Senaiji: *facepalm* And then you tried the shoes on?

Bathilda: *nods* Ja. *pleased*

Epps: *heard that too, and now isn't the only soldier laughing!*

Bathilda: Serves her right. Hanging up on me vhen I vas trying to tell her somezing important. *not sorry in the least*

Kae Yau: *in between cackles* T'ose're (%$#%$&#$% Prada!

Bathilda: *so much smirk* Ja. I know.

Senaiji: *headshake. Is quite amused, but still*

Ratchet: Interesting stories aside, why did you drive all this way, Wheeljack?

Wheeljack: *blinks and looks at her friend* Ain't today the day I was supposed ta drop by 'n report in person? It was sometime this week!

Perceptor: *looks up* It is indeed today, Ratchet.

Ratchet: ... *checks* So it is.

WakeJumper: *taking Chrome's finger out of her mouth, is going to nom breakfast, kthx*

Bluestreak: *has a happy*

Wheeljack: *grins and turns her attention back to the mech at her side as her arm steals around his waist*

Red Alert: *suddenly stiffens with a squeal of warning as he points up toward empty sky over the playing field*

Blackout: *at the same moment comes thundering across the pasture and then stops to open her chest cannon and blast at something invisible. Repeats the treatment with her other weaponry, and then rips three squirming organic creatures from the shattered flying saucer. Stomps on one and throttles the other two*

Optimus: *just bolted out of his tent at the racket and has now dropped dizzily to one knee* Blackout!

Wheeljack: 0.0 @#$#@$! Reapers!

Bathilda: *startled string of German. No, the mun will not translate*

Kae Yau: $#%$%$#%$#%$#%#!!!!!!

Senaiji: What the?!

WakeJumper: *hidin' on Papa now! Even if she's bigger than him!*

Red Alert: *having a FIT and trying to herd the other hatchlings into the barn*

Showtime: *big optics as she stands by Perceptor and WakeJumper*

Optimus: Blackout, stop!

Ironhide: *appears around the tractor shed* Pit. Ratchet, look at this.

Ratchet: *hurrying over*

Optimus: *tries to get to his feet, still commanding the massive former Decepticon to stop destroying the beings in her grasp*

Ratchet: Optimus, stay still. *cycling air as she realizes what Blackout's dealing with* *will databurst the Prime information about the creatures, is trying to stay calm*

Optimus: *staggers, then turns and looks at his CMO* ...I've never heard of such a thing.

Ratchet: *quietly* Ironhide and the other Protectors destroyed a mother ship that attempted to invade Cybertron. I was the medic who repaired them. Megatron did not feel you needed to be notified.

Ironhide: *gruffly, as he walks over to make sure that all three invaders are dead* We've known about them for vorns, Optimus. They suck a world dry of resources and then move on. This might have been just the first scout ship. Or the mother ship could be somewhere in the solar system.

Optimus: *sickened by the carnage he's just witnessed, but more sickened at the thought of Earth being left waste* No. I won't let them do that.

Bathilda: *seriously* Not alone, you von't.

Senaiji: This is our world too. *has an unreadable expression on his face*

Kae Yau: We need t' be gettin' information 'bout t'e beasties. *frowning*

Optimus: *lifts his head and looks toward Senaiji with a puzzled frown* ..."Too"? You are saying that Cybertronians have a claim on Earth?

Senaiji: *nods* From my understanding, one is already a legal US Citizen, as he was born here.

Optimus: *slight frown* ...Who are you?

Senaiji: Liaison Senaiji Ecray. Miss Mearing resigned sometime last week.

Optimus: *optics flash with surprise as he looks toward Ironhide and is nodded at. Turns his attention toward Ratchet*

Ratchet: Liaison Ecray has been more than accommodating to our requests, and has helped ensure the safety of the hatchlings.

Optimus: *looks at the baby bots peering out of the barn, and his optics flash again* There were only nine hatchlings.

Ironhide: *snerks despite his mate standing beside him and making mush out of invaders* We found nine. Skymine's been finding the rest.

Ratchet: *nods, amusement sparkling in her optics* And several of them no longer have red optics.

Optimus: I see that.

Showtime: *quietly* Bebeh 'ungreh.

WakeJumper: *gonna try and carry Papa over to Mama now!* *wants to hide on Mama's back*

Perceptor: Oh my goodness!

Optimus: *hand to his head as he tries to order his thoughts, but then startles and looks up again* Wheeljack, what are you doing?

Wheeljack: *just cuddling Bluestreak a bit as he cries*

Bluestreak: *clinging to Wheeljack and bibbling*

WakeJumper: *will set Papa down and scale Mama's back* *fussy clickstorm*

Wheeljack: Huggin' my boyfriend, Optimus. You 'n 'Hide aren't the only guys around with a girl anymore.

Ratchet: *hand back to gently reassure WakeJumper, will also reach for Perceptor*

Perceptor: *scales his girlfriend and then becomes blue markings behind her chest grill*

Optimus: ...Ah. *slowly looks toward the tent, his optics paling* Con... congratulations. *mech down*

Ratchet: *moves to scan Optimus* *is worried*

Smokescreen: Aw slag. I knew he wasn't ready to get up. *moves forward with Ironhide to pick up the insensate Prime*

Optimus: *needs energy, and a bit more time for his bond to finish settling*

Ratchet: I'll go get him some fuel. *heads for the energon still*

Epps: *darts over and shuts the front door of the farmhouse as it tries to open* Trust me, you don't wanna see what just went down out here.

Dixie: *protesting that it's time for breakfast*

Epps: You ain't gonna want any if you see this.

Blackout: *looks over toward the porch, and then down at the mangled corpses in her hands* Is this human fuel?

Senaiji: No.

Wheeljack: Slag no. *urk sounds* Get ridda it.

Blackout: *shrugs and flies away*

Bathilda: *expression serious* Ze presence of ze Reapers... Is a declaration of var, ja?

Wheeljack: Declaration, nothing. You don't declare war on cows when ya eat 'em, do ya? *blinks* Kae Yau, that was rank. Wash your mouth out.

Kae Yau: *rude gesture*

Senaiji: Should I notify the Secretary of Defense then?

Wheeljack: *takes a kick at Kae Yau without letting go of Bluestreak* Yeah. Good idea.

Ironhide: *came back in time to see the kick* Knock it the slag off.

Wheeljack: Tryin'!

Bluestreak: *wibble*

Kae Yau: *obscenities!*

Senaiji: *small nod, moves to get his phone*

Bathilda: Vas zat a scout ship, or a var ship?

Wheeljack: Scout.

Skymine: *just walked up with a bitty in each arm and two sitting on her shoulders* Bad words! Stop!

Kae Yau: *meeps*

Ironhide: *chuckles, and then goes stiff with surprise as one of the hatchlings on Skymine's shoulders skreeks at him* What the... Seeklets!

shoulder babby: *skreek skreek. Proud sassy babby here*

Bathilda: Seeklets? *brows up*

Bluestreak: *blink blink*

Wheeljack: *thoughtfully, as she studies the two shoulder riders and one of the ones being held* Should'a known Screamer was too proud'a that design ta let it go extinct. //Ratchet? We have mini Screams out here.//

Ratchet: //...// *hurrying back, has energon for Optimus*

WakeJumper: *can see other bitties from where she's peeking over Mama's shoulder* *clickstorm!*

shoulder babbies: *hear that clickstorm! So much skreeking!

arm Seeklet: *must climb up high and see, despite the owwiness of his leg* *skreek skreek*

Skymine: *frowns* Bad.

Epps: *belatedly remembers to let Dixie out now*

Dixie: *scowls at Epps until her attention goes to the fuss WakeJumper's now raising*

WakeJumper: *can see that the one bitty's gotta ow! Wants to help*

Ratchet: Smokescreen, make sure Optimus refuels. *will give the energon, and move to scan the injured Seeklet*

Smokescreen: *looks at the new hatchlings curiously, and then turns and brings the energy to Optimus and Elita*

hurt Seeklet: *skreek skreek. Gives Ratchet a bright eyed look despite all that wary pride that shows in his attitude*

nother Seeklet: *hops over to Ratchet's shoulder and offers WakeJumper kissies*

Ratchet: *soft clicks*

WakeJumper: *clickstorms and offers cuddles instead*

Seeklet: *cuddles? No no. Must find noms first. Skreek skreek?*

WakeJumper: *offers part of her breakfast*

Seeklet: *noms! Grabs and drinks*

last Seeklet: *pointing and skreeking fit to bust glass. Hungry babbie is!*

Bluestreak: *scoots away from Wheeljack to get the newcomers breakfast*

Wheeljack: About as fun as the big Seekers. *frown*

Skymine: *finger wag at Wheeljack* Bad.

Ratchet: *snerks at Skymine's scolding of Wheeljack, will reach for the injured Seeklet so she can begin working on repairing the little mech*

Seeklet: *not sure of the big who doesn't fit his imprint template, but lets himself be taken*

last Seeklet: *strange big has bubby! Screeech!*

Ironhide: *grunts and covers his ears*

WakeJumper: *clickstorm! Mama just wants to help make the ow-leg better!*

last Seeklet: *so much screech! Just got his brother over by WakeJumper going too!*

almighty crash: *just happened nearby*

Ironhide: *GUN!* *scowl and scan for the sound*

Wheeljack: ...So that's what was hidin' over there.

young Conehead: *scrabbling to pick himself up out of the dirt, is also cowering just a bit* *Conehead* [Don't shoot!]

Ironhide: *poised, but not firing. He remembers the coneheads from his own tribal days. And he can also see the effort that's been put into taking this kid's badge off*

Conehead: *still cowering, but is at least peeking and trying to maintain eye contact despite clearly being scared spitless* *hesitantly* [I'm not looking for trouble.]

Ironhide: *startles Ratchet by replying in the same language* [Don't you even know any other languages? Not everyone speaks yours.]

Conehead: *slight cringe and a headshake*

Ironhide: *rolls optics and rumbles something unkind* [Give me your comm frequency.]

Conehead: *gives, looking like he half expects to be belted at any moment*

Ratchet: *trying so hard not to stare*

Ironhide: *databursts his own rather rude files of English* [Use that.]

Conehead: *silent for a few moments as he accepts the databurst and installs the files* *hesitantly* No want trouble. Heard hatchlings cry.

Ironhide: *glances at the Seeklets, who are still screeching very loudly. Growls as he hears the other hatchlings in the barn starting to cry too* Shut the little slaggers up.

Conehead: *edges closer and begins skreeking softly*

Seeklets: *dead silence and big optics staring. This one... doesn't fit the visual template. But the audio... So much earnest skreeking. Hungry babbies. Scared babbies. Stranger has bubby with the owwie!*

Conehead: *continues to skreek in a soothing manner, even as he watches Bluestreak return with energon. There is fuel. Everyone is safe. Stranger wants to make owwie go away* *recognizes Ratchet as a medical unit, yes*

Bluestreak: *offering the energon now*

Seeklets: *stranger is not Seeker! World is all messed up. Sad sad scared babbies*

Conehead: *edges closer and offers cuddles. Is big Seeker, and he knows what's going on. Everything will be alright*

Seeklets: *suddenly clinging to him after impossible seeming leaps. Little fingers and toes fit between armour plates!*

Conehead: *carefully sits down and skreeks softly. Safe. Safe*

Seeklets: *energon? Energon! Demanding babbies!*

Bluestreak: ...Well, darn. *so amused now, will bring the fuel over to the Conehead*

Conehead: *nods his thanks, then turns his attention to feeding babbies* *is doing his best not to be scared of all the big, famous Autobots*

Ironhide: *looks at Ratchet now*

Ratchet: *is scanning the hurt Seeklet to get a better understanding of the little one's injuries* *is also wearing a bit of a befuddled expression*

WakeJumper: *crooning softly and telling the hurt bitty about how Mama is nice and warm*

Ironhide: *gruffly* What's wrong?

Ratchet: I was unaware that you knew that dialect.

Ironhide: *quirks a brow ridge* The Coneheads had territory on the heights above Thetacon land. Sometimes we needed to talk.

Ratchet: Ah... *small nod, will move to bring the hurt Seeklet closer to the Conehead, and send Catherine to get the sedation gun*

Ironhide: Some of the Coneheads joined Megatron, but not many. They kept to their tribal lands till the purges. *head jerk toward the one sitting on the ground* This jackass is barely past the hatchling stage himself.

Ratchet: *frowns at that* He is a youngling, then?

Ironhide: Probably around the same age 'Bee was.

Ratchet: *small nod*

Wheeljack: *hands over her face as she wibbles a bit behind her mask at that mention of the lost youngbot*

Catherine: *back with the sedation gun!*

Conehead: *boggling a bit as he finally notices the humans* *quietly, sounding a bit dumbfounded* What they?

Ironhide: The natives. Be nice to them or I'll let 'em spit acid on you.

Ratchet: *long-suffering sigh* Ironhide...

Conehead: O_O *cringe*

Senaiji: *back from getting his phone, is arguing with someone that yes, this IS a matter of national security, darnit!*

Kae Yau: *pokes him* Tell 'em ye'll spit acid on 'em.

Senaiji: ...What are you talking about, Kae Yau?

Kae Yau: *grin* Well, we don't want t' be after makin' ol' Ironhide int' a liar.

Senaiji: *stares at her, then looks to Ironhide, hoping for an explanation*

Ironhide: *reaches down and ganks the phone, then speaks to it* Secretary Keller?

aide on the other end of the line: //...May I ask who is calling?// *sounds just a bit uncertain, since they were just talking with Liaison Ecray*

Ironhide: This is the Autobot Chief Weapons Officer. And if you don't want to be carved like a slab of beef and hung in a cooler you better let me talk to your boss.

Wheeljack: o.0 *once more pat patting Bluestreak*

Bluestreak: *has to sit down* o_o *just a bit scared of Ironhide now*

aide: //I'll get you transferred to him right away.// *transferring!*

Smokescreen: *back from bringing more energy to Optimus and Elita. Pauses by his brother and frowns at everyone* Ratchet, what's going on?

Ratchet: Ironhide is attempting to contact the Secretary of Defense. *is working on repairing the injured Seeklet with Catherine's help*

Conehead: *giving Ironhide a "What the slag?!" look now*

Ironhide: *glances at Conehead* Reapers. *back to phone* Hello?

President Pratt: *dryly* //Mind explaining how you managed to scare a newbie, Ironhide?// *no, she is not amused. Nope. No amusement here*

Ironhide: I told him that if he didn't want to wind up in a meat locker he'd better let me talk to Secretary Keller. ...You're not him either.

President Pratt: //No, I'm not. I'm Keller's boss. What is so important that you'd be calling DC this early in the morning?//

Wheeljack: *hisss* Ironhide, that's the President!

Epps: *looks up from plate of food* Oh #$#@$#@.

Ratchet: O_O

Senaiji: *facepalming*

Kae Yau: *brb, dying of lulz*

Ironhide: *frowns, but then gives a detailed report on what his wife just mooshed this morning*

President Pratt: *silent for a few moments after Ironhide is done explaining* *then* //The sooner we get a plan together to combat the threat, the better. What do you recommend in terms of armaments, Ironhide?//

Ironhide: *thinks this over* Human armaments? Something nuclear.

Epps: 0.0 *looks up at Smokescreen*

Smokescreen: 0.0 *back at you, Epps*

President Pratt: //...I see. Would you be open to a meeting with not only myself, but the heads of the military? The only reason I ask is because as much as I'd love to just deal with the threat and get things done quickly, the rest of the government might object to that.// *no, she's not happy about having to get things okayed by other people as well*

Ironhide: *grumble* I suppose. But I'm currently at the Alabama nursery base.

President Pratt: //I can arrange a conference call, if you'd prefer.//

Ironhide: My tires aren't bald. Besides, all those bigwigs aren't going to listen unless someone gets in their faces.

Epps: *looks at Senaiji*

President Pratt: //Alright. I can get the meeting scheduled for later today. How soon would you be able to meet?//

Senaiji: I'm coming with you, Ironhide.

Ironhide: *looks down at the human* I'm flying.

Skymine: *curious perk from where she's standing and cuddling that last hatchling*

Senaiji: For what it's worth, I'm still the official liaison. I have connections, and someone has to go with you to keep you from threatening to turn military personnel into lunchmeat.

Ironhide: *snort* As if. Just wanted to make sure you knew that I'm jettisoning you if you puke in my interior.

President Pratt: //...Good to know.// *sounds just a bit amused now*

Senaiji: *facepalming*

Ironhide: Alright. Just let me make sure my son's not hungry and I'll be on my way. *gives ETA and hangs up, then gives the phone back to its owner*

Senaiji: President Pratt will never let me live this down. *headshake*

Conehead: *slowly* What's a President Pratt?

Ironhide: The human commander. *impatient bellow for his mate*

Skymine: Transport! 'Hide! Transport!

Ironhide: No. I'm not in the mood to hear Ratchet and Wheeljack nag at me all day.

Skymine: Bad 'Hide. *pout*

Ratchet: *finishes repairing the injured Seeklet's leg and brings the youngster out of sedation. Will carry them over to the Conehead*

Senaiji: *to Kae Yau* If I get even one call about you terrorizing people...

Kae Yau: *innocent expression*

Skymine: Ratch. *steps toward her yellow creator*

Ratchet: Ironhide, it will be a quicker trip if you and Liaison Ecray go with Skymine.

Ironhide: *deep scowl* She's not the only flight capable bot we've got anymore.

Blackout: *shakes the ground softly with her landing just then. And then frowns down at the young Conehead*

Conehead: *cringes and moves to protect the Seeklets*

Blackout: *startles slightly, and then stoops to scoop Chrome into her arms and get him hooked up to a feeding tube in her tank*

Chrome: *deep sigh and wiggles his toes as he drinks and looks at the new babbies*

Conehead: *seems a bit confused that he's not being belted, will peek cautiously*

Blackout: *frowning and rubbing turkey droppings off her son*

Conehead: ... *trying to work this out now*

Ratchet: *seriously* I know. But you've got to stop dismissing Skymine out of hand.

Ironhide: *turns and frowns up at the big youngster, then turns the frown back to Ratchet* What the slag are you talking about?

hatchling in Skymine's arms: *quietly* Beeee.

Smokescreen: *looks over and blinks from where he's standing by his brother* That hatchling has wings.

Ratchet: *blinks and looks*

Skymine: *offers the bittybot to Ratchet* Scared.

Ratchet: *soft clicks, will move to hold the hatchling close*

hatchling: *little flail as she feels herself passing from one set of hands to another, and then looks down and leaks oil with fear*

Bluestreak: *quietly* Is she afraid of heights?

Ratchet: ...I think so. *soft, soothing clicks as she moves to sit down in an attempt to calm the hatchling's fright*

WakeJumper: *scoots around to Mamafront, will offer cuddles*

hatchling: *shining silver under her coating of grime. Her optics are already a clear sky blue* *soft little chatter of infant Decepticon as she leans against WakeJumper*

WakeJumper: *cuddle, purr*

Skymine: Hungry. *remembers something* Skymine hungry.

Ironhide: *snorts at Skymine and then turns toward Blackout* I need an airlift.

Blackout: So? Do I look like I'm built to transport leadafts like you around?

Smokescreen: *nobody heard that snerk. NOBODY!*

Wheeljack: *grin safely hidden behind mask*

Ratchet: *feeling just a bit smug now*

Senaiji: *trying so hard not to look amused*

Bathilda: *chuckle* Vell, let Skymine have breakfast, und zen you und Senaiji can go speak to ze President.

Ironhide: *growls at his mate*

Blackout: *backhands him as she looks down at Bathilda* President?

Bathilda: *nod* Ja. She vishes to form a plan to deal vith ze Reaper threat.

Blackout: *frowns* We've got a Seeker now. Just bring something explosive up to the mother ship.

Bathilda: Ze President has to get authorization to release a nuclear varhead first. Zat is ze whole point of ze meeting.

Conehead: *hesitantly* But I can't go. The hatchlings need me here. *protective of the Seeklets*

Skymine: *looks around* Transport?

Ratchet: *scanning the hatchling she's holding* *to Skymine, as she moves to get to her feet* Let's get you some fuel...

Epps: Wait. How can somebody with wings be afraid of heights?

Ironhide: How can someone with a brain be stupid?

Blackout: *whaps him again, and then again because that last one made Chrome laugh*

Epps: -_- Go blow it out yer actuator, 'Hide.

Bathilda: *headshake, moves to see where she can help out*

Skymine: *voice drifts back as she follows Ratchet* Bad 'Hide...

Kae Yau: *laughing her head off again*


Inside the barn


Jazz: *surrounded and partly covered by a purring heap of full bellied and sleeping hatchlings* ^_^

Matt: *shooing Freddy away from some of the hay bales*

Freddy: *purk purk purk!*

Red Alert: *lifts his head and blink blinks in that direction* Bweeee. Sweepy.

Jazz: Shhhh. Jes sleep then. Freddy 'n Mr. Lamont ain't gonna hurtcha.

Red Alert: *looks at Jazz. Pat pats poor hurt big. Snuggle*

Freddy: *purk purk purk*

Matt: *moving hay and trying to avoid stepping on Freddy*

Jazz: *soft sound, and then frowns a bit as he glances toward an empty hammock hanging by the wall. Is wondering where Kitty is, and if she's okay*

Catherine: *arguing with Dallas as she gets herded towards the house*

Fig: *on the porch. Perks when he sees those two coming, and then hands each of them a big tin pie plate full of breakfast food* If you're still hungry after the alien invasion.

Dallas: *as he herds Catherine* Someone's gotta make sure this 'un eats. *ignores the glare he gets*

Fig: *distracted in the midst of his food handing by the arrival of the MacKenzie's old red and black Chevy Astro van* Hey... that's full'a babies.

Dallas: *looks over from trying to get Catherine to sit down in a chair and eat like a civilized person* So that's where those hatchlings got to the other night.

Fig: *as the van stops and Xiaobei herds about four hatchlings out of it* That one kinda looks like Starscream.

Dallas: Kinda... *headtilting*

Fig: Hey, Mrs. McKenzie, where'd you find the babies?

Miranda: Most'a 'em pahled int' th' van last nahght. 'Cept f'r th' 'un we found on th' way 'eah.

Jethro: *making sure all the hatchlings are out of the van*

Fig: o.O; You mean you took 'em home with you?

Dallas: *so amused*

Miranda: Well, th'y w'ldn't git outta th' van.

Fig: Oh crumbs. I better tell the Sarge. *leaves behind his containers of breakfast to hop over the porch rail and go look for Epps*

Ironhide: *from over there* Nullfire, Windbreaker, and Heatseeker. They're perfect names. Ow! $##@$#@, stop hitting me, woman! OW!

Conehead: *skreeking and acting protective of the Seeklets he's holding*

Seeklet by the van: *perks and then lets out an almighty screech!*

Xiaobei: *just said something her mama's not supposed to know she heard her daddy say!*

Conehead: *looks that way and skreeks*

Miranda: *gives Jethro a LOOK*

Seeklet: *runs as fast as a tired and hungry Seeklet can go, only to stop and stare with confusion when the big that's calling her doesn't look like what she thought he would. Tiny skreeks as her head turns and she looks around*

Ironhide: And that one's Sidewinder. OUCH! Alright, you asked for it.

Ratchet: Ironhide, don't get drunk before you meet the President.

Conehead: *skreek skreek skreek* *and then his head's whipping around to STARE at Ironhide and Blackout*

Ironhide: *snogging mate, brb*

Chrome: *kinda squished between parents, but is okay with that. He can hear both sparks and it makes him feel safe*

Dallas: The Conehead's gonna give himself whiplash.

Catherine: Someone get the hose.

Epps: Fig, get off my can. You're supposedta tell the Liaison all that kinda slag.

Sidewinder: *UPSET SEEKLET*

Conehead: *acks and turns his attention back to the Seeklets, skreek skreek skreek! Hasn't seen any other Seekers, but has warm, and can get fuel!*

Dallas: ...Yeah. He's gonna get whiplash.

Sidewinder: *it's not the big she's supposed to go to! Turns back and hunkers down*

Nullfire, Windbreaker, and Heatseeker: *gonna stare at that little one like them who isn't coming to snuggle and drink energon*

Conehead: *not sure what to do* *soft, sad skreek*

Ironhide: *goes over, grabs the little black Seeklet, and then dumps her on the Seeker pile* Slaggin' brat. *heads for the energon still to see where Ratchet and Skymine went*

Conehead: *skreeek, fusses over Seeklets*

Sidewinder: *DO NOT WANT! BITE*

Conehead: *startled squeal*

Fig: *pauses on his way toward Senaiji to look back toward that squeal*

Miranda: *facepalm* Th't 'un... *sigh*

Xiaobei: She's bein' bad!

Sidewinder: *growl growl*

Windbreaker: *stares at her some more, and then shoves a drinking tube into her mouth despite it being chomped onto Mentor's arm*

Sidewinder: *very angry sounds again*

Windbreaker: *HIT! Skreek!*

Conehead: [Let go! That hurts!] *getting upset, but doesn't want to hurt Sidewinder*

light orange Seeklet: *scooting over as quick as she can, was inspecting something in the back seat of the van* *bappaSidewinder!* *SCOLDIES!*

Miranda: *pulls up short* Jethro... th't kid w'sn' 'n th' van.

Jethro: *boggling* Must'a clahmbed ont' th' roof. *which would explain the holes in the roof he was just looking at*

Sidewinder: *SCREECHES at sister! No no no no! All wrong!*

loSeeklet: *SKREEEK! BAP BAP BAP! The rest of the Seekers are here!*

Conehead: *trying to break up the fight. Forgot that Sidewinder's the one who bit him*

Sidewinder: *doesn't hit, but does very loudly express her ire*

Heatseeker: *deep sigh as he leans over and bites a chunk out of Sidewinder*

Sidewinder: *SCREEEEECH! Cry* *poor lost baby, got no Mentor*

loSeeklet: *baps Heatseeker, then hugs Sidewinder and skreeks softly*

Heatseeker: *tries to poke his drinking tube into the crying spot*

loSeeklet: *skreek, click, skreek. Sissy, there is noms*

Epps: Okay. Let's call that one Comet.

Senaiji: *finally blinks. And then stares at him*

Conehead: *trying to figure out what to do now. Looks so lost there on the ground with his arms full of Seeklets*

Sidewinder: *leans against the other Seeklets, looking so dejected as she drinks from the big canister that all the drinking tubes come from. This just doesn't look like the big she's supposed to have*

Heatseeker: *back to sleep already*

Windbreaker: *poking himself on the patch over the ow. And talking to it. Skreek skreek skreek*

Comet: *has found a drinking tube and is drinking fuel* *happy Seeklet*

Conehead: *soft skreeks, is offering reassurances and telling Windbreaker to leave the patch alone*

Nullfire: *just conked out too* *prrrrrrr*

Smokescreen: Hey, Liaison. If you're going to DC you better hurry up and get aboard!

Senaiji: *startles and hurries over*

Kae Yau: *facepalming and laughing*

Smokescreen: *watches Senaiji go, and then turns back to the Conehead* So what's your name, anyway?

Conehead: *blank look* Never got name.

Smokescreen: *stares at him* You're kidding.

Conehead: *slight hunkering* Not noticed. No name. *shrug*

Smokescreen: So why didn't you just name yourself?

Conehead: *looks a bit mystified by the concept* *headshake* Must earn.

Smokescreen: Says who? *snags a Lizzie as she runs past*

Conehead: Is rules. Elders say. Then [Ramjet] say.

Smokescreen: Ramjet kinda lost his head back when Starscream tried making a new Allspark. *smirk*

Conehead: *wide eyed stare, then frantic headshaking and soft, worried skreeking*

Smokescreen: Hey, I have footage from a friend who saw it. Gimme your comm frequency and I'll databurst it.

Conehead: *hesitates for a moment before giving his comm frequency*

Smokescreen: *databursts the file, then turns his head and wonders where his brother went*

Conehead: *silent for the length of time it takes him to watch the footage, and then he's making upset skreeks*

Smokescreen: *turns back to the Conehead as the Seeklets except Heatseeker stir restlessly* Hey, easy. You're bugging the hatchlings.

Conehead: *upset* [Poor Ramjet.] *shaking just a bit now*

Smokescreen: *quietly* I have no idea what you just said, but I can't say I have any sympathy for the guy. He'd just helped Starcream kill Elita One and some other friends of mine.

Conehead: *sad little skreeks, is going to focus on cuddling the Seeklets, since they're all here right now*

Ratchet: *bellows from the still* Wheeljack, are you lost again?

Conehead: *startled look towards the bellow, optics flashing with surprise*

Fig: ...Just call 'im Whiplash. If he was human he'd have it by now.

Whiplash: *looks to the humans on the porch*

Dallas: ... *snerk* Yeah...

Smokescreen: *light chuckle* There you go, Whiplash. *goes to look at the scout ship now*

Whiplash: *blink blink. Puzzled chirp* *has noooo idea what just happened*

Ratchet: *going looking for Wheeljack now* *grumble grumble*

Wheeljack: *sitting beside the dugout with Bluestreak, throwing the contents of a couple pie pans of human breakfast bit by bit at Matt's big pet catfish* So which is the stuff the cows eat?

Bluestreak: This stuff. *indicates the sort of crunchy stuff with the brown edges and lighter centers* It's called "toast" or something like that.

Wheeljack: *picks it up carefully and sniffs it* Hmm. Dead plants instead of dead animals. *looks around for a cow. Doesn't even blink as the bellow of her name is repeated*

Bluestreak: *blink blink* Ratchet sounds kind of mad...

Wheeljack: Nah. She'll remember what she read on my bumper pretty soon. Which of these is a cow?

Bluestreak: Oh... The big black and white things with the bags hanging between their hind legs. *points* And the red one too.

Wheeljack: *soft whistle* Hey, cow. Here, cow. Toast? *holds it toward the animals*

cows: *coming over to see what the not-trucks are doing*

Ratchet: *has found Wheeljack and Bluestreak* ... *raised brow ridge*

WakeJumper: *clickstorm from where she's snuggling Sissy* *has decided that the winged hatchling is her sissy*

Wheeljack: *pokes toast at the mouth of the nearest cow* Hey, cow, you wanna fuel? Huh?

cow: *noses the toast a bit and then begins nomming*

other cows: *crowding in to get noms*

Ratchet: ... *headshake* Wheeljack, you are one strange femme.

Wheeljack: *turns and looks at her friend for the first time, browridge quirking* Yeah? What makes ya think that this time?

Ratchet: Observation of your habits. *chuckle*

Wheeljack: *cheerfully, as she takes another piece of toast* Sittin' by the water 'n feedin' animals is an accepted courtship ritual on Earth.

WakeJumper: *can see cows! Patpats over where Papa is on Mama's chest* Papa! Cow!

Perceptor: Hmmmm?

winged sparklet: *softly* Cow.

WakeJumper: *excited clickstorm, more patpat to try and get Papa to look* Cow! *makes cow sounds*

Ratchet: *small smile for the winged hatchling* Yes, that's right.

Perceptor: *transforms there behind the grill and looks around* Ohhhhh. I see what you mean, WakeJumper. Yes, those are indeed the large quadruped commonly known as "cow". Though the term, strictly speaking, only applies to the females of the species.

WakeJumper: *happy clickstorming*

Wheeljack: *laughs* 'N I'm strange.

Ratchet: *razz*

Bluestreak: *feeding cows*

Wheeljack: *turns her head and looks up at her friend* Did you just do what you useta roll yer eyes at Sam for doin'?

Ratchet: *Look*

Wheeljack: *sober look back* Oh yeah, and I found Optimus' Allspark shard. *more quietly* We might be seeing some'a the guys again, if I can figure out how ta make it work.

Ratchet: *surprised expression is a go, and it's mixed with hope*

Wheeljack: *sighs* But everybody from before this last fight is gone, because'a those Operation Nefarious creeps.

Ratchet: *shutters her optics and nods, still feeling the sting of that perceived failure on her part*

Perceptor: *climbs up onto her chest grill and lays his small head against her* *softly* It was not your fault, Ratchet. No one would ever have thought that human beings would be harvesting our dead of their residual spark energy in order to feed a hideous parody of our Allspark.

Wheeljack: *attention to petting a cow so nobody's watching Ratchet right now*

Ratchet: *ducks her head to rest her chin against Perceptor* *softly* I still feel as though I failed them...

WakeJumper: *small frown. Mama has a sad. Hugs Mama!*

Perceptor: *cuddles with all the strength in his small, wiry body. Has no words now, so he just follows his newly claimed daughter's lead and offers comfort and support*

winged hatchling: *soft "bweee" as she too cuddles*

Ratchet: *very soft clicks as she circulates air*

WakeJumper: *lovin' on Mama for all she's worth*

Perceptor: *lifts his head and straightens a bit so that he can give Ratchet a peck*

Wheeljack: *without looking at them* D'awww.

Ratchet: *gentle kiss, will touch her forehead to Perceptor's*

WakeJumper: *snuggle!*

Perceptor: *softly* I am not the only one who loves you and believes in you, Ratchet.

winged hatchling: *okay, down now*

Ratchet: *small nod, and then she's blinking and looking to see what has the winged hatchling wiggling* *lightbulb moment, will move to gently set the hatchling down on the ground*

WakeJumper: *one last snuggle for Mama and Papa, will scramble for the ground*

winged hatchling: *looks around, looks at cows, and then turns and scampers away*

WakeJumper: Bhuh? *confused blink blink*

winged hatchling: *stops when she realizes she's all alone and turns back with a quizzical little squeak*

WakeJumper: *clickstorm, scoot!*

winged hatchling: *takes her hand and makes for the gate out of the cow pasture*

Ratchet: *soft chuckle as the hatchlings depart*

Perceptor: ...It does seem rather peculiar that a winged Cybertronian of any age should be afraid of heights.

Wheeljack: *reaches back and slaps Ratchet in the knee with the back of her hand*

Ratchet: *startled blurt, LOOK for Wheeljack*

Wheeljack: *grins up at her, optics quietly dancing with affection for her friend as her arm steals around Bluestreak's waist*

Ratchet: *amused snort for her friend* You are indeed one strange femme, Wheeljack.

Wheeljack: *soft razz* Go find someplace nice ta sit 'n court yer guy, and leave me 'n mine alone.

Ratchet: *snorts and moves to head off to a quieter part of the farm*


Meanwhile, in Washington DC.


President Pratt: *moving to enter the meeting room, is giving Secretary Keller a bit of good-natured ribbing about Ironhide's methods*

Ironhide: *frowns from the Transformer side of the conference room* What's wrong with my methods?

President Pratt: *startled "ack", and then she's laughing* Nothing!

Senaiji: She was just kidding, Ironhide.

Ironhide: Oh. *subsides with impatient rumblings*

Skymine: *peers over his head at all the strangers, her new visor lit up by her curious optics*

one of the President's aides: Er... What's that smell?

Senaiji: *deadpan* You don't want to know. But we've got to show you anyway.

President Pratt: *raised brow* Alright then... What is it that has to be shown?

Ironhide: *tosses the least crushed of the dead Reapers onto the human conference table, releasing a strong odor of ammonia*

President Pratt: O_O *trying not to gag*

several aides: *running for trash cans to urk in*

Secretary Keller: *looks pretty green now*

Senaiji: *sympathizes* *quietly* These are the current threat to Earth.

Ironhide: *gruffly helpful* Want me to split the bio suit open so you can see what they really look like?

humans present: *RUNNING for trash cans. Even Senaiji is looking ill at the idea*

Skymine: *is that soft female voice heard in a lull in the pandemonium* Bad 'Hide.

Ironhide: *frowns at her* ...I am not. What did I do?

President Pratt: *from where she's hunkered over a trash can* That... won't be necessary.

Skymine: *reaches and takes the dead thing away, then carries it out of the room*

Ironhide: Hey, bring that ba... *looks at humans* ...To Ratchet's specimen freezer.

Skymine: *voice echoes back softly* Evacuate.

Ironhide: *turns back to the humans, and then reaches to offer the President his mirror tree*

President Pratt: *sounding a bit queasy* Maybe we should meet outside.

Ironhide: *frowns* But the Autobots are under orders to keep a low profile outside the base. It would look pretty stupid for a bunch of suit nerds and uniforms to be talking to a muscle truck.

Secretary Keller: Is there anywhere else we could possibly meet within the facility?

Ironhide: *silent frown, then* Come with me. *holds out hands*


Bit later


Ironhide: *offers beer from the fridge under his table to the humans sitting around on his collection of beanbag chairs*

Secretary Keller: *isn't going to ask about the beer*

Ironhide: Black Horse is Canadian. So you only get one bottle. *not about to have Ratchet and Optimus yell at him about drunk politicians. The lecture for drunk soldiers was bad enough*

President Pratt: *snerk* Guinness is better.

Ironhide: *frowns at her* That's not what... That's not what I've been told. Do you want a glass for that?

President Pratt: I'm good. *serious expression is a go as she looks to the gathered military officials* We have a major problem here.

Ironhide: No #@#$@#, Sherlock. *yes, he did just say that to the President*

President Pratt: *Look for Ironhide* Perhaps you would care to explain just what that really gross thing that's now in Ratchet's fridge is to the people who were late. *does not care if it's not a fridge at this point*

Ironhide: A hostile life form that came to gather data on the amount of available resources on this planet. There's no chance of peace talks.

Air Force General: *slowly* So basically, we have to fight or die?

Ironhide: *settles into his own big chair of ganked concrete blocks* Unless you give us a nuclear bomb so we can sneak up on them before they're mustered.

Marine General: *quietly* Can you ensure that doing so won't cause additional problems here on Earth?

Ironhide: Yup, if you give us the bomb fast enough they won't have gotten close enough for the radiation to touch the planet. *picks up a canister that had been sitting between the wall and his chair and screws off the lid. Wait. That's a Sidewinder and he's drinking the propellant*

Army General: *blink blink* I see.

President Pratt: *taking a swig from her beer* So all that's left to do is authorize the weapons transfer, then waste the &$#&%$#%$#%s.

Secretary Keller: *facepalming at the President's choice of words*

Senaiji: O_O *staring at the President now*

Ironhide: *blinks and looks down at the human female, then rumbles a chuckle* Yup.

Generals: *going to discuss this with Secretary Keller. Thankfully, it's a short discussion*

Secretary Keller: Then let's get things started.

Ironhide: You're not wondering how we'll get it up there? *looks down at the Defence Secretary over his canister of filched boom*

Secretary Keller: I'm assuming that it will either be launched from Earth, or someone's going to volunteer to take it up there.

Ironhide: *nods* The kid's got a space shuttle alt mode. And we just found a Conehead. So that's two bots capable of reaching space on their own.

Secretary Keller: I see.

Senaiji: We should get all the paperwork and red tape out of the way now.

President Pratt: So let's get started. *sends one of the aides to get the required paperwork*

Skymine: *carefully steps over aide with apologies, then comes in and kneels to offer a tray on which are arranged a stack of human plates and one carefully microwaved "Monster Meatlovers" pizza* Eat?

Senaiji: *soft chuckle* Thank you, Skymine. *will grab a plate and a piece of the pizza*

Generals: *boggling a bit*

President Pratt: *ditto, but she's the first to get over her surprise. Will move to thank Skymine and have a slice of pizza as well*

Skymine: ^_^ *moves to offer pizza to the Generals and the Defence Secretary now* Eat?

Secretary Keller: Er... Thank you, Skymine. *having a slice of pizza*

Generals: *remembering their manners and wonderingly following the example*

Skymine: ^_^ *offers the last pieces to the aides* Eat?

Aides: *thank Skymine and then every human has a piece of pizza*

Skymine: *sets the last piece carefully on the last plate, and then puts it on the empty seat before getting up and bringing the tray and the pizza pan back to the mess kitchen and the nice cook*

Army General: *as Skymine departs* She's... almost like a child.

his aide: I didn't know they were that human.

Ironhide: *low, explosive rumble* Excuse me.

Senaiji: *amused headshake at Ironhide*

Navy General: *has been quietly observing the entire time* *to Ironhide* How long has Skymine been here?

Ironhide: *blinks out of his thoughts and looks down at the human* ...Two years? Something like that.

Navy General: And has she always been as she is now?

Ironhide: *frowns at him* She's from that Skymine project. Ratchet and Wheeljack know more about her.

Skymine: *back and gives Ironhide a large disk of blue plastic* Pizza.

Ironhide: *takes it* No it's not.

Skymine: *pout*

Senaiji: *chuckles* It's a cookie pizza.

Ironhide: *looks down at him* What?

Senaiji: You've never heard of that? *surprised*

Ironhide: *frowns and googles* No.

Senaiji: *will begin explaining about the treat*

Ironhide: *has found it now* *starts listing other details* Huh. *bites disk, then remembers himself even without Ratchet to yell at him* Thanks, kid. That guy wants to know about you.

Skymine: *hunkers down to look alertly through her visor at the General* Know?

Navy General: *as President Pratt snarks at the Marine General and bullies the poor man a bit about the legibility of his signature* Yes. I'd like to know more about one of the people we've been working with.

Skymine: *puzzled pout as she studies him* *shyly* Work with? Skymine not know man.

Navy General: *puzzled* Weren't you one of the people who helped save Earth?

Skymine: *blink blink. Sudden grin that's unmistakable even on a metal face* Yeah. Save! *then reaches up to push her visor out of the way so that they can see her scars from facing Sentinel Prime* Bad Sentinel.

President Pratt: *as she moves to bully the Navy General into signing* Very bad. Fail fire truck. *grin*

Skymine: *nods, and then lets the visor drop and hunches her shoulders* 'Bee... Sammy... Mudflap... Skids...

Navy General: *after he's signed the paperwork where he's supposed to, he'll move to gently patpat Skymine's hand*

Skymine: *looks at him* Sad.

Ironhide: *gives another low rumble, and then leans forward to look at the humans* Do you people know that we have children yet?

Skymine: *turns her head to regard the older bot* ...Drunk.

Ironhide: *ignores her*

Navy General: *slowly* I wasn't made aware of that.

Senaiji: *frowns* Then read the reports I send, instead of just shoving them into your "read" box. Sir.

Ironhide: I have a son only a couple months old. *gruff voice is rumbling with suppressed anger* Our last liaison tried to order him and the other babies decommissioned because they were useless.

Generals: *all of them look horrified at the idea*

President Pratt: I knew that #$%$#%$#%# should have been fired ages ago. *scowling muchly now*

Ironhide: *and here is a picture of Chrome. That holo sitting there on the floor, life-size and laughing as he hugs his scarecrow*

President Pratt: Awww... Happy baby.

Marine General: *soft chuckle* All kids love dolls.

Ironhide: He ate a barbie doll once. *follows the first picture with one Blackout took, of himself face down in the pasture with Chrome sitting on his head*

Army General: ...How many missiles did you drink?

Ironhide: Missiles nothing. My wife kissed me till I couldn't tell what planet I was on.

Senaiji: *facepalm*

President Pratt: ... TMI.

Marine General: *laughing and giving Ironhide a sympathetic look*

Navy General: *facepalming muchly*

Air Force General: *trying not to look uncomfortable*

Army General: *pinching the bridge of his nose and blushing*

Ironhide: *deep frown as he searches for the term* What the slag... Ahem. What does "TMI" mean?

President Pratt: Too much information.

Ironhide: *sits up* That's less information than you see on a PG movie.

President Pratt: Yes, but it's still none of our business. *cheeky grin*

Ironhide: He asked.

Presidential aides: *collective facepalm*

Secretary Keller: *clearly trying not to laugh*

Senaiji: You could have told him it was a personal matter, Ironhide.

Ironhide: *giving Senaiji a look like he just grew another head*

Skymine: *returns then and sees the picture of Chrome. Soft squee and shows a picture of ALL the baby bots!*

President Pratt: Awww! *gleeflail, and inadvertently shoves the paperwork in the Air Force General's face*

Ironhide: *distracted from staring at the Liaison to blink at that, and then snerk*

Secretary Keller: *interested, since this is his first look at all of the hatchlings* *surprised* They're about the same size as humans.

Ironhide: *looks at him. Looks at the picture* Yeah. Most of 'em.

Marine General: *chuckles* And I see that the human children aren't the least bit concerned that their playmates are made of metal. *can see how two little girls and a little boy are in the thick of things*

Ironhide: They school with the hatchlings and Chrome. *shrug*

Skymine: *switches pictures to show the children and bot babies sitting on the porch, intent on laptop computers* *metal babies are kind of piled on top of one another in their attempts to see the screens*

President Pratt: Awww.

Ironhide: *sudden perk of inspiration* Madam President, we don't want to bring the hatchlings and Chrome here. They need space.

President Pratt: *nods* *slowly* Understandable. DC's pretty cramped. Besides, it'd be cruel to take them away from a familiar environment and their friends.

Ironhide: But we need better quarters there. And the Lamonts and MacKenzies don't have enough money to finish the building that they started for us.

Secretary Keller: *frown* They're farmers, right?

Ironhide: *nods* Yeah.

Secretary Keller: I'll see what I can do.

Marine, Army, and Navy Generals: *holding a mini-think tank*

Ironhide: *now showing a holo of the dimensions of the framework of the huge building that was to have been a bot barrack*

Generals: *come to an agreement*

Army General: Where's the head of the Army Corps of Engineers? This is the sort of thing that they're best suited for.

Ironhide: The whatnow? *finishes his drink and drops the canister back between the wall and his chair, then leans an elbow on a knee to frown down at the humans*

Army General: The Army Corps of Engineers. They do civil engineering work, such as repairing dams, levees, and the like.

Ironhide: And they'll finish the barrack?

Skymine: *perk* Home? Bed?

Army General: They'll make sure it's done to specifications. They'll likely also make sure that the roads in the area are accessible in all weather.

Ironhide: *looks at Senaiji* Is that a problem?

Senaiji: Roads can get washed out in floods. Human vehicles aren't as hardy as Cybertronians.

Ironhide: Hrrrm. *back to the General* Yeah, we need that.

Army General: *nods* *and then he's being handed a phone and is soon making arrangements for the nearest unit of ACoE to be deployed to the farm and the surrounding area*

Ironhide: Oh, and pretty soon our CMO is going to find out that I stole most of the parts I used to make our energon still.

Senaiji: *facepalm*

President Pratt: Oyyy. *so amused*

Secretary Keller: *sigh* Where did you steal them from, Ironhide?

Ironhide: The neighbours. And a place in Tannehill.

Secretary Keller: *slowly* Where in Tannehill?

Ironhide: *names the place, and then frowns at Skymine as she tells him softly that he's bad*

President Pratt: Well, we'll have to reimburse them.

Secretary Keller: *sighs* *will get on that as soon as he gets back to his office*

Ironhide: The hatchlings and Chrome were hungry, and Optimus and Jazz were low. There's only so much energon we can generate ourselves.

President Pratt: *concerned frown*

all the Generals: *discussion time! Topics include supplies, fuel, food, and other related subjects*

Skymine: Come? Transport?

Navy General: We're going to get the supplies the farm needs sent to the farm.

Ironhide: *gruffly* She wants to bring you all out so that you can see the site.

Skymine: Transport!

Navy General: *blink blink* Oh... *looks to the other Generals and the President*

President Pratt: *hopeful expression* :D

Ironhide: I can get some sort of dark shield for my optics if that will make me official enough to protect the President.

President Pratt: *laughs* I don't think that'll be needed.

Senaiji: *shoulders shaking as he laughs*

Marine General: *amused headshake*

Secretary Keller: *trying so hard not to look too amused*

Skymine: *curious and puzzled looks for the humans* Funny?

Army General: Yes. Very funny. *smile* *to Ironhide* I don't think anyone will try anything funny.

Skymine: *understood that!* Nope. #$#@#@ off rednecks!

Ironhide: *gapes at her with shock*

Senaiji: ... *looks to Ironhide* Ratchet's going to kill you. *as an afterthought* If Dixie, Miranda, and Matilda don't first.

Ironhide: *growl* She didn't slaggin' get that from me!

Skymine: :o Bad 'Hide!

Ironhide: *pinch lack of nose and mutter*

Senaiji: At least Skymine's not as young as the hatchlings.

Ironhide: I don't understand all the fuss anyway. *hands on arms of chair and rises to his feet* When are we going?

Navy General: How soon is convenient for you?

Skymine: *gets up and runs out of the room, her voice echoing back* Transport!

Ironhide: ...There went our ride.

Government officials: *laugh*


A few hours later, at the farm


*it seems someone got wind of the impending arrival of the President, as the neighbors and all the kids are out in droves, watching. Even the farm animals are watching and waiting. The Autobots who are standing at the ready also have a bit of an unwanted guest in that one Seymour Simmons has shown up. Thankfully, some of the burlier redneck neighbors are flanking him, not as guards, but as deterrents to keep him in line*

Chrome: *comes swaggering down the line, carefully holding the flowers someone told him are for the President. Stops and looks Simmons right in the eye*

Simmons: Whaat? I didn't do anything!

Kae Yau: *is actually standing with good posture, for once!*

Bathilda: *standing by Wheeljack, is waiting for the President to disembark*

Chrome: *utter scorn in his baby voice as he decides on words that he thinks won't make Auntie Ratchet yell* Poopoo head! *walks on*

Kae Yau: *soft snickerfit at the bewildered look on Simmons' face*

Wheeljack: *quietly, and throwing her voice slightly* Oh yeah, and yer girlfriend wanted ta kill all our babies, Seymour.

Bathilda: *swift kick for Wheeljack's foot* *softly* Behave!

Wheeljack: *looks down* What? I'm just standin' here. ...'N holdin' hands with Blue.

Perceptor: One hatchling is missing. *has just finished counting* WakeJumper, where is your new friend?

WakeJumper: *blink blink, points towards the tent where Optimus and Elita are* Snugglin'.

Perceptor: *stops short* Oh... Dear me.

Red Alert: *squeals and points up as he senses Skymine's approach*

Windbreaker: *skreek skreek skreek!* *all worked up about that squeal!*

Whiplash: *looks up, ready to protect the Seeklets from any threat*

WakeJumper: *clickstorm!*

Comet: *skreek skreek skreek, click!*

Huffer: I can see her. *CHOO! Sniff*

WakeJumper: *clickstorms about that, too!*

Ratchet: *nods* *also makes a mental note to see what she can do about fixing Huffer's sneezing problem*

Dixie: *from where she's standing behind Matilda's wheelchair* Ah ain't evah gonna f'rget th's.

Wheeljack: *throws her voice again* Hey, Seymour?

Simmons: *Look for Wheeljack*

Redneck neighbor 1: *"accidentally" elbows Simmons*

Wheeljack: *as Skymine coasts to a stop on the road outside the farm* You stink and that's sad.

Bathilda: *sternly* Vat did I just say?

Kae Yau: Aw, ease up on t'e lad, 'Jack. *so amused* 'T least he's smart 'nough to keep his mout' shut 'n keep his job.

Wheeljack: *looks down at Kae Yau* ...This time.

Smokescreen: *snerk* *is totally recording this to share with Sideswipe the next time he sees her*

Bluestreak: I think the President's getting out. *trying to stand still, but that's just a bit tricky for the gunner*

Wheeljack: *looks over* A lotta people're gettin' out, Blue. Which one's her?

Sidewinder: *somebody touched me! SCREEEEEECH!*

Wheeljack: Scrap, not again.

Comet: *BAP* *scoldy skreeking! And then offers her fist to Sidewinder-sissy*

Kae Yau: *over the ensuing Seeklet fight* T'e blonde lady wit' glasses. T'e blokes're... *eyes widen* T'e Generals o' t'e US Military! *staring now*

Bathilda: *quick to stand at attention*

Bluestreak: *acks and does likewise*

Epps: Whiplash, can't you shut those kids up? *wincing at the pitch of the screeching*

Fig: *gonna stand to attention if it kills him*

Whiplash: I'm trying! *and he really is. He's even reaching down to offer cuddles and some of the blue plastic thingies that're nice to gnaw on if it gets Sidewinder and Comet to stop fighting!*

Wheeljack: *deep sigh* I hate ta say it, but we gotta get a bot with Screamer's techspecs somehow.

Showtime: *starts playing music*

Sidewinder: *will yell at her for it, and then curl up and sulk*

Comet: *will try poking a nom at Sissy's mouth as a peace offering*

WakeJumper: *clickstorm. Can see a cookie!*

President Pratt: *raised eyebrow. Heard the fuss* Er. Hello.

Chrome: *bops over with charming baby confidence and grins at the blonde lady* Presi?

President Pratt: *smile* Yes.

Chrome: *holds out the beautiful bouquet of roses*

President Pratt: *as she accepts the offered flowers* Thank you.

Chrome: *griiiin. Kiss on cheek!*

Epps: *facepalm*

Jethro: *got a picture of that!*

Kae Yau: *is now going to be on her absolute best behavior*

President Pratt: Awww! *offers hugs*

Chrome: *big happy babby hug*

hatchlings: *break rank and approach hopefully but uncertainly. Is it hugs?*

President Pratt: *yes, hugs for all the bitties who want hugs!*

Generals: *are all amused to varying degrees*

Secret Service agents: *look a bit uneasy, but that could be due to the proximity of the redneck neighbors, some of whom are quite intimidating*

Ironhide: *looks around for Ratchet, absently lifting his son onto his arm as he does so*

Ratchet: *moving to approach, has WakeJumper on her back again*

WakeJumper: *clickstorm!*

Ironhide: *quietly* You think pictures of that would help? Or just slag people off? Oh, and Skymine's started repeating the rednecks.

Ratchet: I think it would do both. There are always going to be xenophobes, sadly. And what's this about Skymine repeating the neighbors?

Ironhide: Yup. She did. //Bluestreak, Smokescreen, get pictures of this.//

hatchlings: *lovea President!* *and these Generals and Secretary too*

Smokescreen: //Gotcha.// *so amused at seeing the hatchlings mobbing Very Important People*

Bluestreak: //Aww, I think the hatchlings like our visitors.// *taking quite a few very good shots of the hatchlings and the DC visitors*

Secretary Keller: *has grandkids, is used to being mobbed. Is patpatting hatchling backs and giving hugs*

Marine General: *is also a grandpa, is doing similar to Keller*

Army General: *has kids, so has a pretty good idea of what to do*

Navy General: *looking a bit lost. He and his wife never had kids*

Air Force General: *is an uncle, knows what's up* *hugs for the bitty that's hugging him*

Showtime: *comes running up with a big handful of gingersnaps and starts offering them, softly playing her own music as she does*

Secret Service guys: *moving to intercept*

President Pratt: *foot to the midsection of the closest one* Ease up.

Ironhide: *glances at Ratchet* Did she just kick that guy?

Ratchet: *blink blink* I believe so.

Ironhide: *watches for further developments*

Showtime: *giving an uncertain little cringe, her optics bright with distress as she looks from the President to the SS guy who got the boot. Holding the cookies close to her chest as she wonders if she should run away*

President Pratt: *soothingly* It's alright, hon.

Miranda: *giving the SS guys SUCH a Look now*

Showtime: *quiet clicks and squeaks, then* Babeh scahud.

President Pratt: *offers a hug*

Showtime: *little sigh as she leans against the big offering comfort. And then she remembers the cookies and holds them up* Y'all ate yet?

Army General: *chuckles as he recognizes the familiar offering of hospitality*

Showtime: *peeks toward the chuckle and offers the big man big some noms too*

Army General: *gently, as he accepts the offered gingersnaps* Thank ya kahndleh, Miss. *smiles and proceeds to nom on one of the treats*

President Pratt: ... *chuckles* I keep forgetting you're from Georgia.

Army General: *amused* Yup. I'm a good ol' boy.

Showtime: *looks at him, and then plays the sound of the General Lee's horn. Has heard Bubba say that about himself over the phone when he talks to his little brother and mom*

Army General: *laughs*

Showtime: *shy smile and then offers cookies to the President again*

President Pratt: Thank you. *smiles and accepts the offered cookies. Then she's grinning as she noms on one of her favorite treats* These're nice and spicy. *pleased*

Showtime: *pleased too. Chirps and squeaks softly as she turns to offer cookies to the Defence Secretary and the other Generals* Y'all ate yet?

Chrome: *points to one of the medals on one of the Generals* D#@$@#@! Sweet bling!

Epps: *gulp. He'd really thought Chrome had decided not to learn that line*

Ratchet: *raised brow ridge*

WakeJumper: *softly* Bling.

Marine General: *uncertainly* Er... Thank you?

Ironhide: He's admiring your merit badges.

Marine General: *blinks a bit* Er. They're not merit badges.

Ironhide: *starts to say something else, but then grunts as a distinct clang marks the introduction of Ratchet's elbow to his person*

President Pratt: *paying the shenanigans no mind, is too busy fussing over babbies*

Hattie: *comes out onto the porch and announces that there is a meal ready*

SS head: No.

Wheeljack: You're gonna #$#@$#@ her off.

Skymine: @#$@# off rednecks.

President Pratt: *stern look for the SS head* Quit being a git.

SS head: There's too much danger involved. Maybe if we'd had time for more preparation.

Fig: *slight grin and a murmur to the soldier next to him about gator chili*

President Pratt: *narrows her eyes slightly behind her glasses* Know what they say in Poland? Tough %$#%$#sky.

Ratchet: *facepalm*

SS head: 0.o *it's very clear behind his shades*

President Pratt: *moves to head for the house*

Generals: *fall in behind her*

Red Alert: *over there talking up a storm in Decepticon and pointing toward the machine shed, where the Reaper scout ship's been dragged and dumped*

WakeJumper: *talking to Red Alert, telling him to come get noms. The Bigs are gonna prolly do something about the ship after noms*

Red Alert: *ire* No now, Wakie! *perk. Forgot he knew English!* Reaper. *points to the shed* Danger danger. Reaper.

WakeJumper: *insistant* Noms first!

Red Alert: No now!

Ratchet: *moves to scoop Red Alert up as well* They're here to do something about the Reapers, Red Alert. But they need fuel.

Secretary Keller: We've already got the initial stages of the counter-measures started.

Red Alert: *looks down* Buh?

Perceptor: *gently* He knows about the ship, Red Alert.

Secretary Keller: *nods* As does President Pratt.

Red Alert: Oh. *frowny as he leans against Ratchet*

Wheeljack: *chuckles as Skymine makes gentle shooing motions toward Secretary Keller. Then looks toward the driveway* Hey, Blackout, where'd ya find that?

Secretary Keller: *freezes in the process of heading for the house*

Blackout: *shakes the small, slender Starscream model bot that she's holding* Near that base that I bombed out. *notices the human's fear then and frowns down at him* She's in stasis lock. She can't hurt you.

Secretary Keller: *looks to Ratchet, hoping for an explanation*

Ratchet: *as she moves to scan the Seeker* Blackout is an ally.

WakeJumper: *clickstorm, yap, chatter, point!*

Chrome: *just came out on the porch* Mama! *runs!*

Showtime: *soft happy music from where she's clinging to Ratchet's leg*

Seeker: *alive, but suffering from severe energon deprivation and untended damage*

Ratchet: *frowns and moves to begin repairing the damage*

Blackout: I want to put her down. You said not to ignore the sparklet when he called me.

Ratchet: Here. *will take the Seeker, after encouraging WakeJumper, Red Alert, and Showtime to go visit Wheeljack*

Blackout: *gives over the Seeker, and then scoops Chrome up and offers him energon. Realizes that the human is still standing there and looking at her, so frowns down at him* What do you want? *not hostile, just a bit annoyed and puzzled*

Secretary Keller: Er...

President Pratt: *sticks her head out of the door* Keller! Hurry up and get some chili!"

Wheeljack: *finally clues in to a possible problem instead of geeking over broken Seeker* *looks at Keller. Looks at Blackout* You don't gotta worry about her, Mr. Keller. That's just Ironhide's old lady.

Blackout: *doesn't even bother growling at the engineer. Knows it won't stick*

Secretary Keller: Oh. *still a bit brain-broken, but will head for the house*

Wheeljack: Did ya shoot this one, Blackie?

Blackout: *hears not her name, and makes no reply. Has turned her attention to the little thing trying to jabber as he eats there in her arms*

Sidewinder: *suddenly beside the offline bot, poking her and skreeking heart brokenly*

Ratchet: Let's get her repaired. *moving to put action to words*

Sidewinder: *big isn't talking to her! This is the kind of big she's supposed to find, and it's not talking to her! Cry!*

Windbreaker: *little sound of complaint from where he's sitting on Whiplash's head and chewing on it. That dumb girl is at it again!*

Whiplash: *looks* *soft skreeks*

Nullfire: *scrambles down and goes to cling to Sidewinder, who actually lets him*

Wheeljack: Well, at least she doesn't need any spare parts. *wearing two bitties on her back now, and acquiring a third*

WakeJumper: *clicks, and gives one of Wheeljack's earlights a taste test*

Wheeljack: Yiiiii! *stands straight up* 0.0

Bluestreak: *startled, looks to see what made that noise*

WakeJumper: 0_0 *clickstorm!*

Wheeljack: *reaches up and very gently pushes hatchling away from earlight* Careful, kid. Those're sensitive.

WakeJumper: *okay. Will taste test fingers then*

Bluestreak: Are you alright, Wheeljack? *worried*

Wheeljack: 'N I need those ta work with. I'm fine, Blue. Just gotta unexpected kiss. With teeth.

Bluestreak: *wince wince wince, will move to fuss over Wheeljack a bit*

Wheeljack: *gives him a kiss on the cheek. Obviously glad to have him near, but distracted* *softly* I'm alright, kid. Just lemme help Ratch get this 'Con back online.

Ratchet: *as she works* Wheeljack or Bluestreak, go get some energon from the still.

Wheeljack: *quirks a brow ridge and grins at her boyfriend*

Bluestreak: *scoots to get*

Ratchet: *as she continues to work* At least his feet move as rapidly as his mouth does sometimes.

Wheeljack: *hunkers down to resume her own contribution to Seeker repair* Hey, I don't diss your guy.


That evening


President Pratt: *sitting on the porch with a glass of sweet tea, has shucked her jacket and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons of her blouse. Is relaxed, despite the seriousness of the Reaper situation*

Inferno: *newly named after extinguishing a wonderful cherries jubilee. Is leaning against the nice lady's legs as he sits beside her. Also hugging Red Alert and a little femme*

little femme: *snuggling Bubbies and the nice lady* *soft clicks*

Red Alert: *noddd, jerk! Nodddd, jerk!*

little femme: *more snuggle! Bubby needs sleeps!*

President Pratt: *leans forward a bit, will gently rub Red Alert's back*

Red Alert: *sleepy blinking of big blue optics* *squeak squeak squeak?*

President Pratt: I think it's bedtime, hon.

Inferno: *gives her a quizzical look. They're going to sleep. Didn't she notice?*

babby: *up on the porch roof above them* *rooster call!*

President Pratt: *looks up, trying to spot the rooster crowing bitty*

Wheeljack: *looks up from where she's helping the young Seeker femme sit up without touching the Seeklet that's glomped onto her* Good grief. Ratchet, look.

Ratchet: *looks up*

hatchling on the porch roof: *happy sounds and crows again*

Seeker femme: *raised brow ridge for a moment, before she's turning her attention to softly skreeking to the Seeklet that's latched onto her*

Sidewinder: *massive sigh as she hides her face against the femme*

Wheeljack: Here comes Dixie. *chuckle*

Dixie: *moving to see if she can get a good look at the source of the rooster sounds* ... *facepalm*

babby on the roof: *happy chirping and squeaking, and then a squeal as he slips*

SS guys: *suddenly swarming up the wisteria and getting the little guy down*

redneck neighbour: *laughing at the suits*

President Pratt: *on her feet, worry on her face*

SS guy: Easy does it, you little hot rod. *lowers babybot by arms to his friends on the ground*

hatchling: *talk talk talk!*

President Pratt: Is he alright? *worry worry*

hatchling watching from one of the bedrooms: *scoldy clickstorms for his friend!*

Ironhide: *from somewhere out of sight by the barn* Hot Rod, come here! It's time to sleep!

Hot Rod: *can't hear youuuuu. Chatting up the SS people*

hatchling watching from one of the bedrooms: *issa gone from the bedroom, is making his way back downstairs. Intends to drag his friend to the pile of snuggles*

Dixie: *heading for the barn. Is NOT amused with the fact that the hatchlings are being put in the barn tonight* *fully intends to give Ironhide what-for*

SS head: *looks at the President, and then looks after the irate woman* Shouldn't she be yelling at this one, sir?

Hot Rod: *talk talk, boogie*

President Pratt: *about to respond when the hatchling that was upstairs comes scooting out the door and beelines for Hot Rod* I think someone else is going to do that.

hatchling: *SUCH scoldings for Hot Rod!* Bad, bad!

Inferno: *settles back, still hugging his smaller friends. That guy's bubby will take care of him. Like always*

Hot Rod: *blinks, then laughs and plays 'Bad' at top volume!*

Red Alert: *scold!*

hatchling: *scold and bappa Hot Rod!* No! Bedtime!

President Pratt: *watches for a moment, then snerks* Wow. Reminds me of when my brother and I were kids.

SS woman: *looks over at Ratchet and points to the scolder* What's this one's name?

Ratchet: I haven't the faintest idea.

Wheeljack: Most've 'em haven't got names yet. Oh yeah. *looks at Seeker female* You got one?

Seeker femme: *says her Cybertronian designation*

Wheeljack: Slipstream. Got it. *turns head* Yo, Whiplash!

Whiplash: *looks up from cuddling Seeklets*

Wheeljack: C'mere. *crooks finger*

Whiplash: *moves to get up carefully*

Comet: *laying on Whiplash's shoulder, has dug in with hands and feets* *skreeek?*

Heatseeker: *doesn't even move, is a baby bump on Mentor's back*

Windbreaker: *nearly falls off!*

Nullfire: *also holding on, though he's sleeping with his face against Mentor's head now instead of trying to eat the Conehead's head crest*

Whiplash: *catches Windbreaker and cuddles the Seeklet. Moves to approach Wheeljack*

Wheeljack: Whiplash, Slipstream. Slipstream, Whiplash. Streamer, you're in his flock now.

Slipstream: *optics flash with protest and distaste* I'm built in the Air Commander's model. I don't belong to any tribal's flock.

Comet: *skreeeeks*

Sidewinder: *peeks at Sissy, then conks out again*

Wheeljack: You wanna bet, missy?

Ratchet: *to Slipstream* Right now, you, Whiplash, and the Seeklets are the only Seekers on Earth. The Seeklets need mentors.

Slipstream: *cold, quiet fury* That piece of scrap is not a Seeker.

Wheeljack: *earlights show a big cheesy grin as she calls Blackout. Lets Ratchet hear her do it*

President Pratt: *frowning as she watches Whiplash cringe and hunker down on himself*

Comet: *frowns and skreeks at the other Seeker. You be nice to Mentor.*

Blackout: *comes striding out from behind the barn, her optics lighting her lowered visor through the warm darkness of the evening*

Slipstream: *tenses as she spots Blackout* *soft, unintentional growl*

Blackout: *pauses and looks down at her* Megatron is gone. Starscream is dead. So is Shockwave. Do you know what that means?

Slipstream: [You're lying!] *just a bit scared now*

Whiplash: *hesitantly, because Blackout still scares the bolts off of him* [Blackout speaks the truth.]

Blackout: *lifts visor and pins the young female with her hard blue optics* *and then sends the footage she's collected as proof*

Slipstream: *shaking by the time the footage is over. Just had her entire world turned upside down*

Blackout: *hits her lightly upside the head, mindful of the hatchling clinging to her* You belong to the Conehead now. Live with it. *turns and walks off. What Dixie's saying is interesting*

Slipstream: *cycling air and trying to make sense of everything*

Wheeljack: But don't go bondin' till yer both older. *turns and walks off*

Slipstream: ... *stares after Wheeljack*

Whiplash: O_O *hunkers down again and skreeks softly*

Bathilda: *wanders out just then looking for her ride back to DC, in the process gives the President her first up close look at the red shoes*

Windbreaker: *likes the shape of Slipstream, will move over to cling to her*

Whiplash: *soft skreeks, is mostly talking to himself at this point*

President Pratt: *eyebrow* Nice shoes.

Bathilda: *small smile* Danke.

President Pratt: Prada?

Bathilda: *nod* Ja. A... gift... of sorts.

President Pratt: *blink blink* The broad left 'em behind, didn't she? *grin*

Bathilda: *smirk, nod*

President Pratt: *snickerfitded*

Ratchet: *as she moves to get Slipstream standing* Take the hatchlings to bed. They'll start shrieking if they become overly tired.

Whiplash: *small nod, moves to get up and look for a place to sleep*

Ironhide: *wears such a grouchy face as he herds hatchlings out of the barn and toward the house*

Dixie: *wears such a pleased expression as she helps herd hatchlings toward the house*

hatchlings: *chirping and squeaking happily as they scoot past Bathilda and President Pratt, and then into the living room, where the Generals are shooting the breeze over whiskey, photo albums, and home canned peaches* *and a statement from one that his big fish was bigger than the one Matt's holding in that picture*

Bathilda: *telling hatchlings Good night*

President Pratt: *offering good night hugs*

hatchlings: *hugs! Several babble an Alabama flavoured "Night night" as they pause*

Inferno: *has taken his friends inside*

President Pratt: *watches the hatchlings go into the house* *quietly* I wonder where Optimus Prime is. I know the Generals wanted to talk with him about the plan for dealing with the Reapers.

Perceptor: *stops as Dixie follows the last hatchling into the house* Optimus Prime is currently recovering from... ah... the closest human analogy is a collapse, and also from the side effects of getting married.

President Pratt: *small, concerned frown* Will he be alright?

Perceptor: Oh, I think so. *checks on Ratchet's whereabouts, and then makes a small gesture, inviting the President to follow him as he turns toward that large white plastic tent there beside the house*

President Pratt: *moves to follow*

Perceptor: *calls softly as he puts his hand on the flap of the tent* Optimus? Can you hear me?

sound: *movement from inside, and then a deep voice with a slightly rough edge*

Optimus: Perceptor? What is it?

President Pratt: *is reminded a bit of a grandfather*

Elita: *snuggles closer to Optimus, is awake, but is still a bit out of it. Is holding the winged hatchling close*

Perceptor: *has opened the flap, so that President Pratt can see the movements of the golden femme, and also the massive form that is sitting up and groggily rubbing its optics with the finger and thumb of one hand* President Pratt would like a word with you, if she might.

Optimus: *startles and lowers hand to frown toward the entrance*

President Pratt: *gently* If you need more time to rest, Liaison Ecray can get you in touch with me. *can see that Optimus and his wife are a bit zonked right now*

Optimus: *slowly* I function. What is it that you wished to speak to me about? *looks down at mate, and then startles as he sees the winged hatchling*

President Pratt: *still gently* But even I can see you're both still pretty indisposed.

Optimus: *wondering stare as he scans the hatchling, but then drags his optics back toward the human leader* You are here, and I am awake.

President Pratt: Well... The first part of the countermeasure for dealing with the impending Reaper threat's been given the green light. *isn't sure how far along the rest of the plan is yet*

Optimus: *glances to Perceptor, then returns his attention to President Pratt* Will you tell me what those countermeasures are?

President Pratt: *nod* We're going to send them a bit of a "gift". Basically, a nuclear warhead. Long before they'll be in range of Earth's atmosphere. That much, I do understand, and the weapon has been authorized to be released.

Optimus: *deep frown* I'm surprised Ratchet and Wheeljack have agreed to let Skymine carry out such a mission alone.

Perceptor: Oh, Skymine won't be going.

Elita: *small frown* Then who will?

Perceptor: *slight smile* We have been joined by a young Seeker of Starscream's model, and a Conehead of about the same age.

Optimus: A Conehead! *glad to know that some of the tribal race survive*

President Pratt: He's not very bright, but even I can see he's good at following orders.

Perceptor: *quietly* He had not even been named when he first arrived.

Optimus: *grim nod* That was the Decepticon way. Hundreds of youngsters probably returned to the Allspark without ever having been designated.

President Pratt: Wheeljack was calling him "Whiplash". So I think he's got a name now. Some of the little ones are very fond of him, from what I saw.

Optimus: Little ones? The hatchlings?

President Pratt: *nods* The ones that're making screechy sounds.

Optimus: *mouth falls open slightly*

Perceptor: *quickly* We've located several hatchlings who are the same model as Starscream. There is a trine of males, and two females.

Optimus: *slow headshake* *quietly* I hope we can teach them a better way than that which their model progenitor followed.

President Pratt: Well, Comet seems determined to make Sidewinder be nice to Whiplash. *yes, she paid attention to the names, but she's still not sure which one's Comet, and which one's Sidewinder. She just knows those two were fighting outside because she could hear it*

Optimus: That is a problem?

President Pratt: Whiplash is the king of wussiness. He's even a bit scared of Ratchet, from what I saw.

Optimus: *optics are suddenly unmistakably twinkling* Madam President, I am a bit scared of Ratchet.

Elita: *soft snickerfit*

President Pratt: *stares up at Optimus for a moment, then deadpans* I don't blame you.

Optimus: *hear that rumble, President Pratt? It's been a long time since the big guy's been able to laugh like that*

Perceptor: *actually showing shock at hearing the Prime laughing*

Elita: *moves to lean against Optimus, is glad that Optimus is laughing like that*

President Pratt: *chuckles*

Optimus: *smiles at his wife, but then suddenly remembers why that hatchling's readings look so familiar. Laughter turns to shock and tears* Silverbolt??

hatchling: *peeks and squeaks quizzically*

Optimus: By the Allspark, it is you!

Elita: *soft gasp. Is now trying to not get worked up, lest she frighten Silverbolt*

Optimus: *scoops up wife and daughter, and now there are streaks of oil going down his cheekplates as his shoulders shake*

Perceptor: Oh dear me! *turns and races off into the darkness, nearly sideswiping a lurking SS person on the way*

President Pratt: *ignoring the startled squawk from the SS person, will move to give the family some privacy*

Ironhide: *suddenly there, looming out of the darkness. Sharply to the President* What's wrong?

President Pratt: *quietly* I think... one of their kids came back to them...

Ironhide: ... *turns his head and scans the tent* //Ratchet. It's alright. You're not needed.//

Ratchet: //What happened?//

Ironhide: *gruff, and plainly touched* //He and Elita started a batch of hatchlings before the war started. They hatched the day before Megatron turned on us.//

Ratchet: //... I see.//

Ironhide: //That winged hatchling is Silverbolt. Their... daughter.//

Ratchet: //My word...// *so surprised*

Ironhide: //Some of her batch siblings were rescued by the Autobots, and died as adults.// *names a couple of courageous Autobot flyers*

Ratchet: *quietly* //I remember them...//

Ironhide: //The last of them was extinguished during Starscream's stunt with that fake Allspark he tried making. Arcee told me about it.//

Ratchet: //I see...// *trying to keep calm. Has WakeJumper snuggled against her chest*

Ironhide: *looks down and sees the President frowning up at him. Gruffly repeats to her what he just told Ratchet*

President Pratt: *looks just a bit upset now* *quietly* How many kids were there?

Ironhide: *also quiet, his deep voice seeming to rumble up from the ground* Five. Fireflight, Air Raid, Skydive, Slingshot, and Silverbolt.

President Pratt: *lips pressed thin* I see.

Ironhide: I named Air Raid after a friend from the Security forces. He was the first to die, as a hatchling. Megatron sent his shell to Optimus as a message.

President Pratt: ... *just went a bit pale*

Ironhide: Skydive was the one who died during Starscream's Reign. He died an Autobot. Slingshot died earlier, as an adult. *more quietly* We had no idea what happened to Fireflight or Silverbolt till now.

President Pratt: *excuse her, she's going to need to go have a good cry now*

Ironhide: *watches her go, and then facepalms with a sigh* //Ratchet, I broke the President.//

Ratchet: //What happened?//

Ironhide: *fesses up reluctantly*

Ratchet: //... And she was upset about that. She's only known us on a more personal level for about a day.//

Ironhide: *blink* //Huh. I didn't think about that.//

Ratchet: *quieter* //I think we've gained another ally. And from what I've seen based on her political performance, she's going to fight tooth and nail to make sure we're not treated poorly.//

Ironhide: *doubtfully* //Are you sure?//

Ratchet: *names off all the changes President Pratt has brought about, including some that countered popular rulings made by some of her predecessors, and how strongly the woman has campaigned for those changes*

Ironhide: //Isn't she the one that called that Bam idiot a faker?//

Ratchet: //Among other things. Most of which are on her web journal.//

Ironhide: //Hrrrm. She's crying pretty hard.//

Ratchet: *quietly* //She forms strong emotional attachments to people. Seeing how "human" we can be made it easier for her to relate to us.//

Ironhide: *snort* //I still think it's ridiculous the way they compare everything to themselves, as though they were around first.//

Ratchet: *simply* //If it were the other way around, wouldn't we be noting how Cybertronian the humans can be?//

Ironhide: //They aren't.// *yup, he just hit grumpy mode*

Ratchet: //So says you. Go kiss your mate and improve your mood.// *attention going to comforting Perceptor*

Ironhide: *falls into the ancient argument* //Don't tell me what to do, femme.//

Ratchet: //Well, I'd say 'Make me', but that would scare Perceptor and WakeJumper, so you'll just have to make do.// *signs off with a click*

Ironhide: *growling that he doesn't tell her how to repair people as he wanders off into the night*

((Written with random_xtras))