Pocket Reality and the Nexus. Denver and Ironhide's Area, and the Black Dog. Job Leads

[dens_extra_pups]

((OOC Note: This takes place before Easter, timeline wise))



Ironhide: *wakes with a grumble and a slight shake*

hIronhide: *echoes his main body's movements by stretching and groaning, then pauses to look at the woman tucked between himself and the seat back with one brow lifted thoughtfully*

Denver: *sleeping deeply, looks utterly at peace*

hIronhide: *looks out the window at the soft light that day holds in this odd place, and then very stealthily lifts his wife's night dress up to uncover her stomach* *pootabelly!*

Denver: *wakes up swinging and shrieking*

hIronhide: *ducks, and then grabs her wrists and falls onto his back, laughing*

Denver: *cussing in a mix of Gaelic and English, with a few Cybertronian expressions. Will also kick*

hIronhide: *protecting the parts of his anatomy that get hurt by kicks and knees. Nuzzles wife with his beard*

Denver: *scowl and cuss a bit more*

hIronhide: *lets go her wrists and puts his arms around her. Cuddle love love. Nuzzle*

Ironhide: *rumble*

Denver: *will try and get a hand in between herself and hIronhide so she can poke him in his belly button. At the same time, she'll give him a good morning kiss*

hIronhide: *happy sound! This is what he'd hoped for. Also catches that hand and then gently rubs the wrist with his thumb*

Denver: *will nuzzle and cuddle for a bit now that she's not in a combative mood*

hIronhide: *rolls onto his side so that he can rub her back with his seat back as he cuddles* Good morning, woman.

Denver: Mornin', yerself. *content expression*

hIronhide: You didn't get all the mud off your face last night. *slight smirk*

Denver: *grumbles and rubs her face on his chest*

hIronhide: *looks down at that portion of his anatomy, which is currently clothed only in natural coverings* Nice. Where's my shirt?

Denver: ... Ah 'ave no ahdea. *not that she's complaining*

hIronhide: *gruffly* Well, I didn't take it off.

Denver: ... Ah di'n't take 't off'a y'u.

hIronhide: *snorts his disbelief, then nuzzles a bit more* We should go back to that Nexus and see if we can find more food for you.

Denver: *nod of agreement* 'N s'meplace t' git supplahs f'r th' workshop...

hIronhide: That too. *lifts head slightly* Is it time to pipe in the morning?

Denver: Ah th'nk so... Ain't gotta watch t' check though.

hIronhide: *jerks a shoulder at the readout on his dash*

Denver: *looks* *snerk* Lemme get mah pahps th'n. *fully intends to give Fig a rude awakening*

hIronhide: *vanishes and reappears outside and fully dressed* Why was my T-shirt on my smokestack?

Denver: *scowling darkly at him for vanishing while she was cuddling* 'Ow th' %$%$%$% sh'ld Ah know?

hIronhide: *impatient snort as he gets her pipes out of the case they found in the storage box*

Denver: *will move to get dressed* *pleased sound as she snags one of the t-shirts that was in the storage box, as well as a pair of cargo shorts* *will also grab her bra*

hIronhide: *muttering to the pipes as he looks them over for flaws or damage as he does every morning*

Denver: *will stretch and pop her back as she does each morning, before moving to get her pipes from hIronhide*

hIronhide: *hands them over and kisses his wife, then glances toward the tent and grins*

Denver: *pleased sound at the kiss, and then her expression is going wicked as she also looks toward the tent* *quietly* Wh't sh'ld Ah warm up wit'?

hIronhide: Metal.

Denver: *snerk* Aneh requests? *is looking forward to scaring the bleep out of their hungover former teammate*

hIronhide: *shakes head* You pick. *wondering if Fig will even hear the pipes past all that tequila that he drank last night*

Denver: *expression goes positively evil as she moves to quietly approach the tent*

hIronhide: *starting to grin now*

Denver: *gets into the right stance for playing, will start with the opening notes to "Dr. Who Meets Metal"*

hIronhide: *waits, and then vanishes as his main body unfolds and scowls at the tent* The slagger's not there.

Denver: *stops playing, scowl* Wh't th' %$#%$#? Realleh?!

Ironhide: *lifts the tent fly to show her* Really.

Denver: ... Well, $#%$#.

Ironhide: *sets the storage box on the grass by the tent and then delicately picks a violet from the grass and offers it to her between his big fingers* Let's go see if we can find you breakfast, woman.

Denver: *soft chuckle as she's offered a flower, will accept the violet* Sounds good. *move to put the pipes back in their case, then she'll carefully tuck the flower stem behind her ear so the flower is peeking out beneath her recently cut hair*

Ironhide: *absent stretch as he looks toward the portal leading to the Nexus and scans it*

Denver: *as she tucks the case into the tent, she'll wonder how Fig got away without either she or Ironhide noticing before deciding to try and figure that out another time. Turns to exit the tent, pausing in the act of straightening up as she sees her husband in the morning light. Absently wonders again what the heck he sees in her rather plain and muscular self even as she admires the way the brightening day highlights those strong but gentle hands and the serious face she's come to love with all her heart*

Ironhide: *turns and looks down at her, his eyes shining more brightly as they reflect that soft beam of light* It seems to be quiet out there.

Denver: Good. Ah ain't 'n a mood t' deal wit' shenanigans.

Ironhide: *smirks, and the fingers of his holoform gently jab her ribs*

Denver: *squawks and swats at the holoform's arm*

Ironhide: *rumbles laughter as he steps through the portal. A startled curse comes back to Denver from the other side*

Denver: *hurries after him, worry making her throat tighten*

Ironhide: *looks just like his holoform as he turns to give her a bewildered and disoriented look* I think I'm human. *winces and puts a hand to his stomach as it growls. Bewilderment increases*

Denver: *blink. Blink in her own bewilderment. But then she's focusing on something she can understand* Le's git y'u s'me food.

Ironhide: This is hunger? *dismayed look for her* It hurts you when you're hungry?

Denver: 'F 't's been awhahl since Ah ate, yeah, 't c'n 'urt... *worry worry worry* *absently registers that the evil sign from before is gone, and that there's now a Visitor's Center A-frame building standing where it had been*

Ironhide: Are you in pain? *clearly worried for his wife*

Denver: *headshake* *and now she's moving to try and fuss over you, Ironhide*

Ironhide: I'm alright. *scowls, and then turns the scowl toward a woman who has stopped to look at them and who is dressed in a minimalist monokini of crochet and string* *roar* GET THE SLAG LOST! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I WANT TO SEE THAT MUCH OF YOUR DISGUSTING AFT???

woman: *backpedals, and then calls him a bleep*

Denver: Slag off, $%$%$%! *protective stance, is looming just a bit*

woman: What I get for trying to help! *bleep!* you both! *flounces off*

Ironhide: *covers his eyes* Ugh, that's revolting.

woman with dark red hair: *wearing a hoodie, jeans, what looks like a normal backpack, and some sort of sling which is clearly full of... something* Yeah, hate to say it, but tourists think they can get away with wearing whatever the heck they want, then get offended when the locals point out the common decency laws.

Ironhide: *gives this newcomer a dark scowl*

woman: Easy, big guy. I come in peace. *small smile at her corny joke* First time in the Nexus?

Denver: *frowning muchly and sticking close to Ironhide, intending to protect him*

Ironhide: *voice an antisocial growl* Nope. *glances toward the Visitor's Center and sees a DnD elf girl step out tying the side of a butt flap type miniskirt. Expression darkens as he realizes it's another scantily clad female organic*

elf girl: *happy wave to the woman when she sees her* Look! Now I can go to the Black Dog without bothering the bouncer!

woman: Shiny! *one hand moves from supporting the sling to give the elf girl a thumbs up*

sling: *moves a bit and then tiny snores can be heard coming from it*

Denver: ... *can't help the soft snerk she just did*

Ironhide: *baffled scowl for the red haired woman as the elf girl happily runs away between the brownstones*

woman: *turns her attention back to the couple* *blinks a bit at the man's expression* The Black Dog's fussier about covering all the parts below the belt than the rest of the Nexus. *will gently re-position the sling so its contents aren't too jostled*

Denver: So whah w're y'u less snippeh wit' th't gal?

woman: *blinks behind her glasses* *slight shrug* *quietly* She's a slave, so she doesn't normally wear that much fabric... Plus, she wasn't acting like the world owes her anything.

Ironhide: *expression thunderous now* Slave?

Denver: *expression dark*

woman: She's treated pretty well by her master, from what I've been able to tell. I don't really ask, though, 'cause it's not really my business...

Ironhide: Freedom is the right of all sentient beings. *growl in his voice*

woman: *quietly* Not in worlds or realities like where she comes from... *starting to tense up a bit, though it's not clear if she realizes it*

Denver: *scowling muchly now* Th't's a $%$%$%$% way t' th'nk.

woman: *still quiet* Not all realities can be happy go lucky. A lot of 'em really suck for the people who live there, but they still have to try to make the best of it. And we don't have permission to change them.

Ironhide: *angry still* *growl* Permission from who?

woman: Whoever's in charge... Be it God, Primus, or any other being who can create worlds and realities.

Denver: ... *still scowling, but one brow's up in confusion*

someone: *just put a sign in the window of the Visitor's Center saying that they have fresh hot apple turnovers, LOL free*

woman: *glances toward the movement* Oh, hey, LOL-free noms.

Denver: ... *blinks at the sudden shift in topics*

Ironhide: *also blinking*

woman: *bit of a wide-eyed expression behind her glasses as she tries to work out what's wrong now*

Ironhide: ...Noms are food. *looks at his wife as he remembers this*

Denver: *slow nod* LOL-free?

woman: Oh! Yeah. That means they're safe to eat, and won't change you into anything or mess with you.

Ironhide: *wary look toward the sign* You're sure about that?

woman: *nod* The Help Desk's as safe as the Black Dog.

Ironhide: *attention back to his wife, asking what she wants to do. Here is food... though only one type*

Denver: *considering the turnovers now* 'N LOL-free stuff's safe t' eat...

woman: *nods* Yeah.

Denver: ... Th't'd be good t' know 'f Ah knew wh't th't meant.

woman: LOLs are enchantments, usually harmless and temporary. The ones that make new life tend to be permanent though.

Ironhide: *hairy eyeball of incomprehension*

woman: Most common one used to be the couch gas, 'til Hormah got the kid used to people, so she stopped gassing 'em in self defense. Then some glitch-aft slagger figured out how to bottle the gas and use it to bomb people with. *scowl*

Denver: *brows up* Bomb'n'?

woman: *nods* With little glass balls. The gas is mostly harmless, but it'll change organic peeps into Cybertronian ones, and Cybertronian or robot peeps into humans.

Ironhide: *looks at his hands* I didn't see any gas.

woman: *blink blink* Did anyone throw anything at you or point a squirtgun at you?

Ironhide: *shakes his head, frowning*

woman: Hm... *look of concentration. Then, with a slight shrug* I got nothin'. But if you want to tag along, Bitty and I are going to the Black Dog to meet someone for breakfast.

Ironhide: *looks toward the sign about turnovers, and then his brows are lifting as someone goes in, and lets a smell out* !!!

Denver: *attention going to the good smells*

woman: *to Ironhide and Denver* Wait here. I'll be right back. *heads for the door to the Visitor's Center*

Ironhide: *looks up* ...Airships. Floating hills. And a floating house.

Denver: ... Wh't? *looks up* *jaw drops* %$%$%!!!

Ironhide: *looks at the sparsely scattered sky furniture with a thoughtful scowl, then lifts a brow as he notices that water's running off one of the hills and landing somewhere some ways behind one of the Brownstones*

woman: *as she comes out with turnovers* Oh, hey, the subdivision's getting rained on.

Ironhide: *hairy eyeball of incomprehension part two* What?

woman: There're three hills, and they gather condensation. *nod nod* And when they have enough, it rains in the area they're over.

Ironhide: Huh. *attention to the paper wrapped parcels in her hands*

woman: *offers one of the turnovers to Ironhide, and one to Denver* Careful, they're hot.

Denver: *as she accepts* Th' 'un 'ill's got 'n ahsland 'n a leash.

woman: *looks up, snerk* Oh, wow. It does! *laugh*

sling: *sounds like "Bitty" is waking up!*

Ironhide: *peels back the paper on his turnover and looks up as he cautiously takes a bite, then frowns as he chews thoughtfully. Knows not that he is eating one of the most delicious apple and dinochicken turnovers to come from Amy's skilled hands* Someone's got a rock climber's pallet hooked to the side of that island.

woman: *blinks and looks* Huh. Braver person than me...

Denver: *inspecting her turnover as she unwraps it, and then she's taking a bite... and making pleased sounds at the flavor*

Ironhide: *pauses as he becomes aware of part of the scent of his turnover* *uneasily* There are dead body parts in this.

woman: *nod* Dinochicken bits.

Denver: Th's ain't bad. *grin*

Ironhide: I can't eat this. *sounds a bit upset*

woman: Trust me on this one. You need the protein that meat provides.

Denver: 'T least trah 'n finish 't, 'Hahd. *will patpat his hand reassuringly*

woman: There's meat in her turnover too, and in mine as well.

Ironhide: *eyes darken further* But it's something's body.

woman: *gently* Dinochickens aren't sentient. And you two look like you could use the protein boost.

Ironhide: *looks like he's going to refuse*

woman: *seriously, eyes seeming to shift from blueish grey to fully grey* Eat. You need to keep up your strength, and it'll help your girlfriend's anemia. *totally going on a hunch here*

sling: *soft baby coos, and then the bitty's squirming and trying to get a look at who Mama's talking to*

Denver: *authoritative tone* Finish yer food.

Ironhide: *shakes his head slightly as dizziness hits and his stomach cries at the scent of the turnover. Sullen scowl tries to mask his squeamishness as he finishes the pastry in three bites*

Denver: *small nod, will work on finishing her turnover as well*

woman: *got a bit distracted from her turnover by the bitty that's now flailing and babbling happily at her as she removes him from the sling*

Ironhide: *pauses and looks at the little bot* The #$*&%$# is that?

woman: Hey, don't teach my kid those words until he's at least thirteen. *is trying hard not to look amused though* This is bitty Drill Boy.

bitty Drill Boy: *flaily glee! Hi, peeps!*

Ironhide: ...Your kid? *face shows disbelief*

woman: *nods* By adoption. My boyfriend found him in a toy box here in the Nexus.

Denver: ... Found 'im 'n a toy box?

Ironhide: *scowling deeply now*

woman: *nods* Weirder things happen here... Bitty's spoiled rotten though, isn't that right, kiddo? *grins at the bitty*

bitty Drill Boy: *happy crow, babby kissies for Mama!*

Denver: *blink blink, both brows up as she realizes she's looking at a healthy and happy baby* 'Ow old 's 'e?

woman: *in between kissies* About six months or so... I think... Time flows weird here...

Ironhide: *looks at his wife as he hears the softness in her voice*

woman: *acks as BDB accidentally gets some of her hair caught in his finger joints*

Ironhide: *quietly* Denver

Denver: *turns her attention from watching the woman carefully extract her hair from tiny finger joints* Hm?

Ironhide: *field signs quickly, turning so that the babybot's mother can't see* *eyes hold a quizzical frown* [You want one of those?]

Denver: *very slight headshake* *field signs* [No. Not until we know enough about this place and where we live now to be certain it's safe.]

Ironhide: [Don't know how long I'll be like this.]

Denver: *bit of a blush as she guesses what Ironhide is suggesting* *another headshake* [Until we know it's safe, I'd rather not take the risk.]

Ironhide: [Okay.] *turns back to their new friend, his brows lifting slightly as he checks to see what she's doing now*

woman: *is sharing part of her turnover with her son, who already has some of the filling all over his face*

Ironhide: *gruffly* We should find that fuel dump.

woman: *blinks and looks up* I can take you there. Do you want to go slow, or get there now? *smile*

Ironhide: *scowl* Why would we want to go slow? This isn't a relationship.

woman: To take in the sights and learn the route in case you don't have a PINpoint?

Ironhide: *snort* Don't need sights, and I can memorize a route without travelling like a turtle.

woman: *snerk* 'Kay then. *will reposition bitty Drill Boy to her hip and fiddle with her wristwatch*

bitty Drill Boy: *looks quite pleased with himself, is holding the rest of the good nom* :3

Denver: *frown* Nevah did gitcher name...

woman: *as she continues to fiddle with the watch* Name's Den. Like the room.

Denver: *can't help the snerk she did at the room comment* Nahce t' meetcha, Den. Mah name's Denver. *will gently nudge Ironhide*

Ironhide: *stops scowling at the kid up there looking down at him from the green airship and scowls at his wife instead* What?

Denver: Th's 's wh're y'u introduce yerself.

Ironhide: *narrows his eyes at her, then scowls at the blonde* Ironhide.

Denpup: *nod* I figured. I've met a few of your alternates here.

Ironhide: *gruffly* I doubt they looked like this.

Denpup: *looks up* I've seen a few that did... *slight quirk of a grin* And all of 'em are tall, like you.

Ironhide: *blinks and frowns* Human?

Denpup: *nod* Yeah. One of 'em, Mr. Irons, stops by the blanket factory once in a while to get an order of blankets for the boarding school where he works.

Denver: *blink blink* Boardin' school?

Ironhide: *frowns more deeply*

Denpup: If anyone's told you about the Nexus, and how anyone from any time and any place can show up here? Yeah. They mean ANY time and any place, and any possibility. *nod nod* I've met a couple of my alternates, and some of 'em are really different from me. *grin* One's even a guy.

Denver: *boggling*

Denpup: But that's neither here nor there... You were wanting to go to the Black Dog, right?

Ironhide: *face suddenly looks like he tasted something vile* *growling mutter* Don't tell me there are female versions of me.

Denpup: *bit of a brat tilt to her grin now* I've met a couple.

Denver: *horrified expression is a go*

Ironhide: *slowly rubbing his face and growling something that is in no human language*

Denpup: Welcome to the Nexus.

Ironhide: *tells Den in Scottish Gaelic something very insulting to her mother*

Denpup: *snerk* Why do you think I live here instead of in my reality of origin?

Denver: *STARING at the redhead, surprised that the younger woman understood what Ironhide said*

Ironhide: *lost, and it shows on his expression*

Denpup: *blink blink* Right... Black Dog then... Grab my shoulder and hold your girlfriend's hand.

Ironhide: *growl* That's my wife.

Denpup: Oh. Okay, grab your wife's hand, and hold onto my shoulder.

Ironhide: *takes Denver's hand, but doesn't really feel like touching the stranger* *scowwwl*

Denpup: *Look* My PINpoint doesn't do proximity jumps.

bitty Drill Boy: *waves a hand at the funny peeps and yaps at them*

Denver: ... *will reach for one of the itty bitty flaily hands*

Denpup: *snerks* Okay, brace yourselves. And if you're gonna urk, try and aim away from people.

Ironhide: *starts to growl...*

Denpup: *will bring everyone to the Black Dog*

Ironhide: *finishes growling, then looks around*

bitty Drill Boy: Eeeee!!! Daddy!!!

much bigger version of the bitty: *coming over from a nearby table, at which are seated a yellow and dark navy mech, a red mech who looks like he's a bruiser, and a teal and white mech whose helm looks like a motorcycle helmet*

Ironhide: *gives the big Drill Boy a stink eye*

Drill Boy: *blink blink, puzzled expression is a go* I didn't do anything bad. *thank goodness for the Nexus Translator, right?*

Denpup: Newcomers to the Nexus, and I think the Ironhide got LOLed, DB.

Drill Boy: *sympathy in his expression as he offers to bring everyone to the table*

Ironhide: *growls at DB hands* *cranky level is rising*

Denpup: Hey, chill. DB won't hurt you. And it's safer to sit up at the small table on the big table. That way, you get the best vantage point.

Ironhide: *gives her the mother of all stink eyes*

Denpup: *stern Look* You both need to eat. And at least this way, there're other people to talk to who can give you some advice or point you to things.

Denver: *quietly* Ah 'm kahnda 'ungreh...

Ironhide: *his look says that he is in cranky mode here and will need to be managed*

Denver: *pleading look for her husband. Is just a bit spooked, and the redhead is the first friendly help they've had*

Ironhide: *touched and worried by that look. Pulls her close* I don't want to be picked up.

Denpup: *small nod, will tuck the bitty Drill Boy into the bigger one's hands so she can dig another PINpoint out of the backpack she just swung off of her back* I think I've got another good PINpoint in here... And I do! *grins and offers Ironhide the cellphone-style PINpoint, which looks like an iPhone*

Ironhide: *takes it and looks at it, then startles* *gruff surprise* Humans can't scan things.

Denver: *blink blink*

Denpup: ... That's true. *looks just a bit puzzled* Maybe Oppy could figure out what's going on.

Ironhide: *looks at his wife and blinks before squinting* Yes. You need to eat. And so do I. *turns attention to his own hand then, frowning intently*

Denver: *small nod, will lean on him, taking comfort in his proximity*

Denpup: *will explain how to get coordinates with the PINpoint, and how to activate it*

Ironhide: *only half listening* This is human flesh, bone, and blood. But there are circuits as well, and nanobots. *looks at Denver* *low curse* You're the same.

Denver: *boggling now*

Denpup: *blink* Oooh, so you two're techno-organic. Shiny. *grin*

Ironhide: *scowls* We weren't.

Denpup: *slight shrug* Oppy might be able to explain what happened, if it's not an LOL. *will climb onto her boyfriend's hands and get lifted up to the table with bitty Drill Boy*

Denver: ... %#$%$#^#$^$#^%.

Ironhide: *nods and growls his agreement, then PINpoints the pair of them to the top of the table* Who the *bleep* is Oppy?

Denpup: One of the Guardian Fae who frequents the Nexus. *nodnod* He's nice.

blonde woman: *seated across the table, looks identical to Denpup aside from her Tokyo Police Department uniform and severe demeanor* Den, you think everyone who shares chocolate with you is nice. *even sounds like Denpup, though slightly stern*

green-eyed redhead: *laughs* Nothing wrong with that, Lt. Grant.

Denver: *staring, just a bit*

Ironhide: "Guardian Fae" tells me nothing, woman.

Denpup: It's kinda hard to explain what a Guardian Fae is... Best bet's to ask one up front. *nod nod* *looks around to see if 'Oppy' is present*

Ironhide: *impatient and angry sound* Let's just get fuelled.

Denpup: Order whatever you want.

redhead in a military uniform: Den, you said you would explain what "Poutine" is.

Denpup: *grin* Besides really, really good, Seia?

Ironide: *sees an empty seat and pulls it out, then looks expectantly and a trifle demandingly at his wife*

Denver: *very slight quirk of a grin as she moves to sit down*

Ironhide: *pushes in the chair, growls at the motorcycle helmet bot for grinning, and then grabs the empty seat*

Lt. Grant: Gunmax, be nice.

Gunmax: I'm always nice, babe. *turns that grin on the blonde*

Lt. Grant: *amused headshake*

Ironhide: *growls about "punk", and then pokes the menu display in the middle of the table* I see steak and eggs. Do you want that, Denver? *it's the only breakfast food he knows, other than pop tarts and hangover cures*

Denver: Th't sounds good...

Drill Boy: *just got into a sissy slap fight with the red robot*

bitty Drill Boy: *happy squeals as he watches the fight*

Denpup: Oh, for the love of... Dumpson, Drill Boy, settle the *%$%$% down!

Lt. Grant: *headshake* And she was trying to avoid teaching her kid cusswords... *turns her attention to Ironhide and Denver* I apologize for my alternate's behavior.

Ironhide: *sees a chiproach run over the table and slams a fist down on it* *censored comment!*

Denver: *startled cuss*

Denpup: *startled 'Ack', gives Ironhide a wide-eyed look*

Lt. Grant: Never mind. *amused*

Gunmax: *laughs* He's worse than me!

Ironhide: *trying to see where that bug went, still growling impolite language*

Denpup: I think that was a chiproach... Those things are freaking indestructible.

Ironhide: *growl more* They said that about Bruticus too, and I got him.

Denpup: ... Good luck trying to squish a chiproach. *attention on the menu, trying to decide what she wants*

Lt. Grant: *hand in Gunmax face, sort of. It's hard to put a hand in a guy's face when the face is way bigger than one's hand* *to Ironhide* Do you two have a place to stay? *just curious, but might also be thinking of safe havens*

Ironhide: *spots bug just as it PINpoints away* *vocabulary enrichment 101!*

Lt. Grant: *snerk* *dryly* Nice.

Aaron: *softly* Does he want steak and eggs too?

Denver: *looks to that soft voice, startles*

Gunmax: *looks, is boggling behind his visor now*

Ironhide: *turns to scowl* *brows up when he sees a small Xenomorph queen in a white tie back top and very full skirt with a black apron*

Denpup: *looks up from the menu* Hey, Aaron. *smile* Ironhide and Denver are on my tab.

Lt. Grant: *just a bit wary now*

Seia: *ditto that!*

navy and yellow mech: *just as wary*

Dumpson: *staring, even as Drill Boy puts a hand in his face and shoves*

Drill Boy: *sassing his brother*

Aaron: *slight cringe, her larger arms drawing close to herself as the smaller ones grip her order pad and pen*

Ironhide: ...I don't want steak.

Denpup: *to Ironhide* You need some form of protein. *distracted by trying to break up the slapfight going on overhead, as is the other redhead at the table*

Aaron: Are you a vegetarian?

Ironhide: *promptly* Yes.

Aaron: I can bring you meatplant steak. Do you still want the eggs?

Ironhide: Did you kill something to get them?

Aaron: *softly, ducking her head* No.

Denver: Wh't kahnd 'f eggs?

Aaron: They're duck. You can have actual ones, or cultured.

Denver: Actual sounds pretteh good...

Denpup: *discussing poutine with Seia now*

Ironhide: What's cultured?

Aaron: They're cloned and grown in a vat.

Ironhide: o.0

Denver: *blink blink* ...

bitty Drill Boy: *squeals as Unca gets Daddy in a headlock*

Aaron: *softly* It's the best way to get a big amount of them, without locking a lot of ducks up.

Ironhide: *gets up and goes over to smack a fist into a reachable portion of Dumpson's person* *isn't trying to harm him, so the blow connects*

Drill Boy: *flail* *is laughing, so Dumpson's not actually hurting him*

Dumpson: *giving his younger brother a noogie now* *looks down at the sock* What?

Ironhide: Sit the *beep* down and shut the *beep* up. This is a meal table.

women at the table, minus Denver: *all start laughing heartily*

Gunmax and the navy and yellow mech: *also laughing*

Dumpson: *bit of a scowl, gives Drill Boy one last noogie and lets the orange pest go*

Ironhide: You sit down too. *such a look at DB*

Drill Boy: *nod* Haaaai! *moves to sit down*

Lt. Grant: It's a good thing Power Joe and WakeJumper aren't here as well. There would be food flying by now. *chuckles*

Ironhide: *growls and resumes his seat. To the bots* Hurry the *beep* up and order, you lot.

navy and yellow mech: I'd like the eggs Benedict, please.

Gunmax: I'll have whatever she's having. *nods towards Lt. Grant, expression softening just a bit*

Lt. Grant: Then you're going to be having the same thing McCrane's having, Gunmax. *chuckles at the amused snort Gunmax does*

Aaron: *writes carefully, then looks at the bitty* What would you like?

bitty Drill Boy: *putting on the cute and thinking hard!*

Denpup: *smile* He'll be ganking bits of whatever I get, more than likely. *knows how her son is, since his dad's the same way!*

Aaron: *smiles at the little guy* Toasty tart?

bitty Drill Boy: Eeeee! *flaily gleefit as he hears his favorite nom named off*

Denpup: *nods* And french toast for me.

Aaron: Pink, blue, or white? *grins at the bitty*

Denpup: He got pink the last time we were here... so let's see how he likes blue. *knows what Cybertronians think of blue-colored noms*

Aaron: That one has a chocolate filling.

Denpup: *snerk* He'll like that.

Aaron: Alright. *makes sure she's taken orders for everyone, and then turns toward the bar*

Denver: *will lean on Ironhide for a bit. Is feeling overwhelmed*

Ironhide: *protective arm around her* What is it?

Denver: *softly* 'S jes' a lot t' take 'n all 't 'un tahm...

Ironhide: *gentle, gruff whisper* We'll be back home soon.

Denver: *small nod, will lean against him more*

Ironhide: *cuddles and softly rumbles a comforting hum*

Denver: *glad that he's here with her*

Lt. Grant: *abandoned her chair in favor of sitting on Gunmax's shoulder so she can talk to him quietly*

redhead: *cheerful snarkmatch with Dumpson, who seems to be on the losing side*

Dumpson: *blushing muchly*

battered old blue bayformer: *wanders past* Yeuch, mush. *gone*

Ironhide: *growwwwl*

Denver: *glares after that retreating back*

Lt. Grant: ... He wouldn't know mush if it kicked him upside the head and danced on his face.

Gunmax: *snickerfit*

Nemesis: *over with their orders* Who, Lumen?

Gunmax: Yeah. *chuckles*

Nemesis: *snorts and passes out plates* His processor is mush.

Gunmax: *snerk*

Nemesis: *nods toward a lovely red baytech Seeker* That's his mate.

Gunmax: *quick glance, snerk*

Nemesis: *nods to the hefty green-black baytech beauty who is whaling on a smaller black bot* And that's your alternate's mate.

Gunmax: ...

Dumpson: *heard that, and now he's snickering*

Ironhide: *looks over toward the big femme, and then frowns and studies her more closely*

Pooka: *is baby laughter from the bar* Hit him again, Deherree!

Drill Boy: *looks* *snickerfitdie* Deherree's meeeean.

Denpup: And how. *chuckles*

Nemesis: *puts down the last plate, and then turns back to the bar* Deherree, if you take his head off in here I'm telling Jetfire.

Ironhide: Who is that female? *still frowning at Deherree as she gives Nemesis a haughty glare*

Denpup: One of Blackout's Army. Her name's Deherree.

Ironhide: *brows raise* Blackout, huh?

Denver: *looks startled by the idea*

Denpup: Yeah. She lives in the Nexus, but I'm not sure where, exactly.

Ironhide: *takes out the PINpoint and taps at it, then points it toward the femmebot* ...Well slag.

Denver: *blinks and looks to her husband, brows raising in a question*

Ironhide: Those two bots show readings for our reality.

Denver: ... *not quite sure what to make of that*

Denpup: That might be, but they're both under Blackout's command.

Ironhide: *starts to say something, but then pauses and frowns as a matte black Seeker with a cane hooked over his arm pauses by their table to set two humans down before walking on over to Deherree, hitting her with his cane, and handing her a silver sparklet*

Denpup: *blink blink* *will try and flag down someone to bring more chairs*

Ironhide: *scowling at the tall, strong black woman who's standing there and scowling at him* Blackout. What the *beep* is this?

Blackout: My body needs to rest after trauma, so I got stuck in this disgusting meatbag in the meantime. *scowl deepens* I need you and your mate to come with me after you eat. We have something to do.

Denver: *frown* Wh't sort 'f "s'meth'n"?

Greatshot: *is a tall and burly man with tanned skin and curly black hair* A mission for the big boss.

Ironhide: Who the slag are you?

Greatshot: *slight quirk of a grin* Her mate.

Ironhide: !!

Denver: ... o.0

Archiva: *brings over the chairs. Has a sheepish expression* Aaron forgot to ask you how you wanted your steak and eggs cooked. Sorry, she doesn't usually serve, but two of our servers couldn't come in today.

Denver: *turns her attention to the plates* *amused snerk as she sees sunnyside up eggs and steaks that look to be cooked to medium well doneness* Th't's alrahght, 'on.

Archiva: Oh good. *looks at Blackout and Greatshot and remembers the last time the femme was human* Pink smoothies, right, Warlady?

Blackout: *settling into a chair* *gruff* Yeah.

Greatshot: *watching her as though slightly worried about her as he sits down too*

Denver: *puzzled* Pink smoothies?

Blackout: *looks at the tall brunette* Yeah.

Denver: *kind of hoping for an explanation*

Drill Boy: They're easier to eat than anything else if someone's just been turned human. *nod nod*

Ironhide: *frowns up at the soccer bot* How do you know?

Drill Boy: *sheepish expression* I've been LOLed human before... *blushing*

Denpup: *grin* He had fuzzy, soft hair.

Lt. Grant: *amused snerk and a headshake* Den, you and your hair fixation.

Denpup: *amused look for her blonde alt* Like you're any better, sis?

Lt. Grant: *finding her hands very interesting now, is blushing muchly*

Denver: ... *can't really comment. Husband hair is nice to play with and run fingers through*

Gunmax: *looks way too interested in the table now, and might be blushing*

Ironhide: *just noticed his food and is plowing into it with all the lack of grace of a bot who has spent long seasons in starvation*

Denver: *distracted by that. Will make sure her husband doesn't choke, even as she starts to make her own breakfast vanish*

Denpup: *sympathy expression on her face as she notices how Ironhide's eating* Might wanna slow down, Ironhide...

Ironhide: *glances up with a puzzled scowl, but doesn't slow*

Denpup: Human guts tend to react if you try to shove too much food in at once.

Denver: We's got a mission. Don' wanna dilleh-dalleh. *nomphing quickly and carefully*

Ironhide: *grunts agreement with his wife and continues making his fuel vanish*

Blackout: *takes her smoothie and downs it without using a straw. Smoothie gone!*

Greatshot: *ditto*

Denver: *has already finished off most of her meal*

Gunmax: *watching in rapt fascination*

Denpup: *to Blackout* How's your sparklet?

Blackout: *looks over to the bar* Keeping Deherree and Sparta in line.

Ironhide: *startles and looks up from the crumbs of his meal* Sparklet?

Blackout: Uh huh.

Denpup: *nod* Baby Cybertronians. Not all of 'em start off little and cute though.

Blackout: *slight scowl* If you want to call that cute. *has a glitter bitty holding her hand* My scraplet's alright.

bitty Drill Boy: *babble babble, flirt*

Ironhide: *looks over and sees that tiny silver lady smiling up through her visor as she chats to her scowling sister and enthralled brother* *snort* *thinks the baby bot looks like Jazz, but isn't saying anything*

Denver: *raised brow*

Denpup: *chuckles* 'Kay. *will grab her bitty and distract him with his breakfast*

bitty Drill Boy: *happy crowing and trying to shove the nom into his mouth all at once*

Ironhide: Is that Jetfire?

Denver: ... Who th' *bleep* 's Jetfahr?

Ironhide: *as the bot in question explodes into a torrent of highly accented ire* Him. *stands up and yells something insulting in Scotch Gaelic*

Jetfire: *turns and does a rude hand gesture to the idiot who interrupted him*

Ironhide: *roars back something quite pointed and unknown to anyone who isn't very familiar with the language*

Jetfire: *gives Sparta a good whack with his cane, will shout back something positively rude in the same language*

Denver: *snickerfitdie*

Denpup: ... Was that Irish Gaelic or Scottish Gaelic?

Ironhide: *still in the Scottish Gaelic, tells Jetfire that his father smelled like elderberries and his mother was a hamster*

Jetfire: *informs the human-looking guy that he's got a face not even his mother could love*

Denver: *scowls and tells Jetfire that his face is 'zactly'*

Ironhide: *wide and evil grin from where he's now standing with his arms folded over his chest*

Jetfire: T'e 'ell's 'zactly'?

Denver: *wicked smirk* 'T's wh're yer face looks 'zactleh' lahk yer aft.

Blackout: *you never heard her snerk. So there*

Drill Boy: *laughing muchly now, as are Dumpson, Denpup, and the redhead that accompanied Dumpson*

Seia: *face palming and trying not to laugh*

McCrane: *much face palm*

Lt. Grant: *shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter*

Gunmax: *laughs* She told you!

Ironhide: *adds a humorous and very cutting insult in a very old Cybertronian dialect. Thetacon, to be exact*

Jetfire: *staring at you now, Ironhide*

Ironhide: *smirk*

Jetfire: *will make sure Sparta has a good hold on the sparklet before making his way over*

Ironhide: *stands and watches his progress* *Thetacon* [Don't fall over your feet, old man.]

Jetfire: *scowling muchly now* [Who the slag are you?]

Blackout: *snerk* Who did I say I was going to meet today, you old rustbucket?

Jetfire: ... 0_0 Yer slaggin' me.

Blackout: Like slag.

Jetfire: ... Ironhide's not s'posed t' be squishy.

Blackout: Try telling him that. *smirk*

Jetfire: *headtilting as he debates scanning Ironhide*

Ironhide: *informs him in Conehead Seeker than he's a scrapslaarg* *is smirking as he does so*

Jetfire: [Takes one to know one, slagheap.]

Denver: *frowns. Doesn't understand what the Seeker said, but can tell by his tone that it's insulting*

Ironhide: *sound of insult and amusement* *then, in gruff English* What're you doing with her? You're not from our reality.

Jetfire: I's 'er brot'er. *much pride in that statement*

Ironhide: *quirks a brow* You an Exile or something?

Jetfire: *headshake* Nay, lad. I's livin' 'ere by choice. Like t'e human lass. *nods towards Denpup*

Ironhide: *frown for the redhead, and then turns back to the old Seeker* What was wrong with your own reality?

Jetfire: T'ere's no place t'ere fer me.

Ironhide: *frown holds concern* What do you mean?

Jetfire: T'e ol' place 's at peace. 'T's no place fer 'n old soldier like me.

Ironhide: *taken aback* Peace?

Jetfire: *nod* Aye. Autobots 'n Decepticons.

Ironhide: *obviously stuck hard by this, and is too surprised to know what to say* *turns his head to look blankly toward his wife*

Denver: *not sure how to respond, except to move closer to her husband*

Jetfire: *blink blink* *cuss as he connects the dots*

Ironhide: *absently, in response to that cursing* Now what?

Jetfire: *nods toward Denver* I know 'er alts... *jerks his head over to where a big, red, winged Baytech femme is arm wrestling with a silver and teal mech of identical tech, while spectators take bets* 'N I see t'e occasional Flashpoint 'round 'ere, too.

Ironhide: *looks at Denver again* This is my wife.

Jetfire: *nod* Aye, but t'e lass don' always marrieh ye.

Ironhide: So? *turns away from the Seeker, feeling too tired to even be crabby*

Jetfire: T'ere's a reason we call 'er 'Flashpoint', lad. *turns his attention to the arm wrestling as loud cheers erupt from that direction*

Blackout: *frowns at the humanized frontliner, then looks at her mate* Let's go sit on the front porch. Ironhide, Flashpoint, come on.

Denver: *surprised by the nickname, but will reach for her husband's hand*

Ironhide: *starts and looks at her, and there is dark sadness and confusion in his eyes*

Blackout: Tell them to put that on my tab, Jetfire. *pushes away from table and gets up*

Greatshot: *frowning at Ironhide as he also rises to his feet*

Denver: *will move to hug her husband* *quietly* Le's go...

Denpup: *to Blackout* I've got their meals covered, Blackout.

Blackout: *level look* No, I have theirs and yours. *turns and leaps off the table, landing with bent legs and then rolling*

Ironhide: *saw that* 0.0 *face palms and hugs his mate, and then goes and does the exact same thing*

Denver: *acks and moves to follow*

Greatshot: *grabs her arm* You better jump on a chair first.

Denver: *shortly, freeing her arm from being grabbed* Ah ain't gonna break.

Denpup: *as she begins to dig into her neglected breakfast* She's the same tech as Ironhide.

Greatshot: *looks at Denpup* They're human.

Denpup: *looks up* Ask 'Hide about it. They're techno-organic.

Greatshot: *brows quirk* Oh. Huh. *looks at Denver with a bit of curiosity, but then goes and jumps off the table himself*

bitty Drill Boy: *cheers! Has noms all over his face*

Denver: *will jump down, aiming to land next to Ironhide*

Ironhide: *rolls his shoulders and then gives Blackout a stink eye*

Blackout: *smirks at him, and then jerks her head toward the door before heading that way herself*

Greatshot: *back there kicking Jetfire in the ankle. He'll probably be along shortly*

Jetfire: *happily cussing Greatshot out*

Denver: *give her a moment, the "eek" of the jump just caught up with her*

Ironhide: *senses her accelerated pulse and turns to reach for her* What did you do, woman?

Denver: *as she moves to hide against Ironhide* Jumped down.

Ironhide: Did you hurt yourself? *grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her back to frown at her*

Denver: *deep breaths* Ah don' th'nk so. *just gave herself a good scare, is all*

Ironhide: *sighs, and then pulls her close with a hand to the back of her head, cuddling her even as he grouses at her*

Denver: *relaxing a bit, is still uneasy about doing a mission with Blackout though*

Ironhide: *quiet and gruff* Your heart rate's still elevated.

Denver: *quietly* 'Ow d' we know we c'n trust Blackout?

Ironhide: Look at how everyone here responds to her.

Denver: *peeks and watches people for a bit*

Ironhide: *and then he hears something that has him turning to look toward the door with shock*

Denver: *looks to see what has her husband's attention*

Blackout: *standing in the hands of a baytech Optimus who is laughing as she talks to him, and who has a tall young femmebot with unmistakable Blackout characteristics standing behind him and looking on possessively*

Denver: *blink. Blink!*

Ironhide: *a little shakily* Optimus wouldn't befriend someone unless they were worth it.

Denver: *small nod*

lOptimus: *says something in a quiet rumble, and then sets Blackout down only to put his hands up in stern protest as his mate puts an arm around his neck from behind*

lRequiem: *says something demanding*

lOptimus: *stern headshake*

lRequiem: *loosens her grip, but demands again*

lOptimus: *will turn around then*

Blackout: *looks in through the door* What are you two waiting for? Your afts to grow lead plates?

Ironhide: *snort*

Denver: *small nod, will move to tug Ironhide's hand*

Ironhide: *accompanies his mate and finds the pair of them directed toward a wicker couch that sits in a sheltered but still sunny spot*

Denver: *scoping out the surroundings out of habit*

Blackout: You came here for supplies, right? *settles in the wicker armchair that matches the couch*

Denver: *small nod* *continues to study the surroundings*

Blackout: *frowns and points to the couch* Park your afts. Give Optimus your list. He wants to shop for someone today.

Ironhide: *surprised look up toward the red and blue mech*

lOptimus: *nods*

Denver: *blink blink, looks to Ironhide*

Ironhide: *gruffly* You don't have to do that, sir.

lOptimus: But I want to.

Ironhide: *can't think of an argument, slaggit! Shoots a scowl toward the young femmebott who is holding onto lOptimus' arm*

Denver: *trying to remember what all they'll need in terms of supplies*

lRequiem: *narrows optics when she notices that scowl*

Ironhide: *low growl*

Blackout: *watching with amusement as Greatshot leans against her chair*

Denver: Aneh'un got a pen 'n papah?

lOptimus: I can remember if you recite what is needed. *to Ironhide* This is my wordmate, Requiem.

Ironhide: *more scowl and growl, still ready to rumble* You break his spark and I'll frag your hard drive.

lRequiem: *snort* You and whose army, grease smear?

Denver: *attention on that now* Me. *dangerous glint in her eyes*

lOptimus: *calmly* Requiem, Ironhide, that's enough.

Ironhide: *backs off, grumbling*

lRequiem: *tries to see if she can get away with ignoring Optimus*

Denver: *bit of a stinkeye for lRequiem* *turns her attention to her husband*

lOptimus: *quietly stern* Requiem...

lRequiem: *look full of challenge*

lOptimus: *stern expression. Can, and will put a stop to shenanigans and disrespect right here if he needs to*

lRequiem: *knows this, and knows it well enough to stop now, though sullenly*

lOptimus: *nods and returns his attention to Ironhide and Denver*

Ironhide: *has paper. Offers it to his wife*

Denver: *quietly thanks husband, will search pockets for a pen*

Ironhide: *pen!*

Denver: *bit of a smile for him, will write down everything she can think of that they'll need at this point*

lOptimus: *hunkers down and waits patiently*

Denver: *frowns and studies her list, before offering the paper and pen to Ironhide so he can go over it and add what he thinks is necessary*

Ironhide: *looks at paper. Has no clue* *looks at wife* Looks good.

Denver: *small nod, will offer the paper to lOptimus* *quietly* Th'nk y'u f'r doin' th's, sir.

lOptimus: *amused, but thinks he understands why Denver needed to write the list down* Shall I leave this with Hormah, if I do not see you when I return?

Denver: ... Who's Hormah?

Blackout: Pain in the aft. She'll make sure your supplies get to you.

lOptimus: She is the local Primus Servant and pastor. *amused look toward Blackout*

Ironhide: Pastor? You mean like for Jesus and His father?

lOptimus: Yes, I suppose so. The God with the cross.

Ironhide: Huh. *looks at Denver. One of the things she was wondering about just got answered*

Denver: *very small smile*

lOptimus: *also looks at Denver* You were looking for a pastor?

Denver: *small nod* F'r Eastah services.

lOptimus: *thoughtful frown* The egg holiday?

Denver: *another small nod* Th't's 'un way 'f look'n 't 't.

lOptimus: *slightly embarrassed* All I really know about it is that it is the day in the year when Arcee pelts Sideswipe and Ratchet with painted eggs.

Denver: *facepalm, snickerfit*

Ironhide: *mystified*

lOptimus: But I had better make my way to the mall. It was nice meeting you, Denver.

Denver: Lahkwahs, Optimus.

lOptimus: *looks at Ironhide, then smiles slightly sadly and nods to him* Be safe, Ironhide. *turns and strides away hand in hand with his word mate*

Denver: *will lean on husband just a bit*

Ironhide: *can't mask the sadness in his eyes as he watches that Optimus walk away*

Denver: *head on husband's shoulder, won't say anything*

Ironhide: *looks at her, and then looks after the Prime again. It feels so strange to think that his life is no longer any part of an Optimus'*

Denver: *will give his hand a gentle, supporting squeeze*

Ironhide: *mutter* I should be following him.

Denver: *quiet and contemplative now*

Blackout: *snort* No. You need to get your rusty aft back together before you follow anyone.

Ironhide: *growl*

Denver: *scowl*

Blackout: Why do you think you were given that quiet pocket? And the form you wished for your mate and yourself?

Ironhide: *scowl turns to puzzlement*

Denver: ...

Blackout: What? *frown*

Ironhide: I wished...

Blackout: You know you did, you old junker.

Denver: *frowning muchly as she thinks*

Ironhide: What does wishing have to do with anything? *scowling again*

Greatshot: *snerks softly, his dark eyes dancing*

orange and black baytech medic: *pauses as he overhears the question* Around here? A lot. *heads into the Black Dog*

Ironhide: ...

Blackout: What he said.

Denver: ... *raised brow*

Ironhide: *finally* Bull@#$&#@$&$#@.

Blackout: Not bull@#$&#@$&$#@. It happens around here all the time.

Denver: ... 'Ow's th't possible? *disbelief clear on her face*

Blackout: See that big ugly blue lump sitting over there? *points upward and along the porch*

Ironhide: *looks. Frowns* Looks like Bonecrusher.

Blackout: He was. Now he's Scattor. And the slagger grants wishes and plays tricks on people.

Denver: ...

Ironhide: How the *bleep* did that happen?

Blackout: I ripped out his processor and let Scorponok play with it, and then Hormah introduced him to some other joker that grants wishes. *shrug*

Denver: ... Eeesh.

Ironhide: ...He had a processor to start with?

Blackout: Yup. Just never used it.

Denver: ... Th't sounds lahk people we knew back 'ome.

Ironhide: *snort* I doubt it, woman. Bonecrusher was an anti-social, homicidal afthat.

Blackout: Like you, huh?

Ironhide: ....

Denver: 'Hahd ain't antah-social. *affectionately* 'N 'e's MAH afthat.

Blackout: *just quirks one eyebrow in a knowing and not condemning way* You two aren't ready for that mission.

Ironhide: *looks up from wife cuddles with a scowl*

Denver: *slight frown*

Blackout: Go get your base finished, and then come back here and ask for me.

Ironhide: *growling something under his breath about a bossy glitch*

Denver: *that slight frown just became a fully-fledged one* Jes' wh't d'y'u mean, we ain't readeh?

Blackout: *calmly* What I said. Go and finish your base. Get established.

Denver: *frowning muchly now as she tries to work out what you mean, Blackout*

Ironhide: *and then he nearly falls over from the shock to his nervous systems as some alternate of his starts shooting people out of a cannon*

Denver: *startled curse, ducks and covers before she can stop herself*

Blackout: *turns her head so she's not seeing them* Go home.

Ironhide: *reeling slightly. Smacks self in head to try and clear it and doesn't even growl an insulting reply to the transformed Destron*

Denver: *on her feet and seeking husband chest. Is going to hide against you, Ironhide*

Ironhide: *feels her bump against him and wraps his arms around her, struggling to anchor himself by her familiarity*

Blackout: *pulls out a little glowing bit of light and hands it to her wordmate*

Greatshot: *wishes those two home*

Ironhide: *grunts as he lands on his back on the grass under the oak tree*

Denver: *shivering and fighting her reaction. Is trying to focus on things that make sense, like being held by husband*

Ironhide: *contact needed. Seeking point of focus. Kiss wife's brains out*

Denver: *snog-fest only stops for a few moments so she can breathe before resuming*

Ironhide: *slightly frantic as the affection continues, but then he's startling as he feels something step on the hand that's laying on Denver's back. Breaks kiss to scowl down there, then lifts his brows as he spots the very young black kitten that is now sitting on the back of his hand and looking at him with that slightly unfocused and worried look that some infant felines wear* What the...

Denver: *brows up, will try and see what's got Ironhide's attention*

Ironhide: *moves hand and tips the little thing off, then picks it up and sits, carefully moving so that Denver winds up sitting on his lap* It's a cat. *shows her*

Denver: ... 'T's a tahneh cat.

Ironhide: *scans it* It's a baby.

kitten: *little wiggles. Doesn't like being held upside down like this*

Denver: *fusses and attempts to relieve husband of the kitten, so she can hold it properly*

Ironhide: *lets her have it, and then watches as the baby animal cuddles against her and holds on with tiny claws as it tries to purr* How'd it get in here? *frown*

Denver: Ah ain't gotta clue. *will smooth the kitten's soft fur*

kitten: *closes little eyes and makes like going to sleep*

Ironhide: *watches how his wife is holding the kitten* ...Do you want a pet?

Denver: *quietly* 'T'd be good practice f'r latah on.

Ironhide: *surprised and puzzled frown to her face* It would?

Denver: *nod* 'F we 'ave kids.

Ironhide: *frown deepens* How would having a pet be good practise for that?

Denver: Gotta make sure th't 't's got th'n's lahk food, 'n a safe place t' sleep. 'Mong othah th'ngs.

Ironhide: ...Whatever. What are you naming her?

Denver: *quiet as she thinks* 'Ow bout 'Glock'?

Ironhide: *doubtful look for wife* Glock?

Denver: 'T's a 'andgun. *bit of a grin*

Ironhide: I know what it is. *still looks doubtful and a bit incredulous*

Denver: Ah don' 'eah y'u c'm'n' up wit' anehth'n' bettah.

Ironhide: *expression changes to a mild scowl* It's a cat, not a gun.

kitten: *getting her purr on now, eyes half shut*

Denver: 'T's bettah th'n wh't th't nutbah aunt 'f mahn named 'er cat 'n dog.

Ironhide: *scowl deepens* I don't want to know.

Denver: *fine then, she'll kiss that scowl off your face*

Ironhide: *surprised sound as his arms go around her, and then he's making a pleased, quiet, rumbling*

Denver: *forgot what they were arguing about, will kiss husband's brains out. This is Denver trying to cope with her reaction earlier*

Glock: *is a happy little kitty. New parents are being lovey. Will cuddle and snuggle and bittypurr*

Ironhide: *after awhile he passes from anxiety to exhaustion, but the presence of his now sleeping wife and the purring of the tiny kitten bring quietness to his new human heart, and the weary old soldier fades into slumber there in the grass of the little pocket of reality shaded by the bearded oak*

((Written with random_xtras))