dliDenver: *giving her counterpart a good laugh as she carefully hefts the other woman's sword*
dtFlashpoint: *giving pointers and radiating amusement*
Charlie: *pops into sight* I need someone for a job. Either of you available?
dtFlashpoint: *startles, reaching for her sword*
dliDenver: *also startles, but relaxes when she sees who showed up* 'Lo, Charlie. Wh't tahp'f job?
Charlie: No fighting. Just delivery of this component. *holds out a little gizmo still in its package all marked with Cybertronian glyphs*
dliDenver: *hands her counterpart the sword back* Ah'll go.
Charlie: Fifty dollars enough?
dliDenver: *nod* Sh'ld be.
Charlie: Alright. Got a PINpoint?
Denver: *holds up wrist, which has a very good PINpoint as a wristwatch*
Charlie: *offers her one of the itty bitty chips that some PINpoints can read* Download quick.
Denver: *downloading. PINpoint beeps once the download's done*
Charlie: *puts out hand for the chip as he glances at Flashpoint* How's work?
Denver: *hands over the chip* Been interest'n.
Charlie: *distracted from dtFlashpoint. Lifts brows slightly with surprise* You've been working?
Denver: Small, local jobs. Deliverehs, mostleh.
dtFlashpoint: *soft snerk*
Charlie: Ah. How's the house building going?
Denver: We's got all but a few o' th' sahd rooms done.
Charlie: *hard face softens to a smile* That's good to hear. *looks at her PINpoint* All ready?
Denver: Yup. *to Flashpoint* See ya 'round.
dtFlashpoint: Keep yer nose clean. *smirk*
Charlie: *as Denver hits her travel button. To dtFlashpoint* You realize you've got soot on yours, right?*
Denver: *will look around once she arrives at the coordinates*
street: *quietish backstreet of New York city. In front of her is an open garage door under a sign which proclaims this building to be "Sparkplug's Garage". Standing in the doorway is a young woman with a curious expression on a very familiar face*
Denver: *will slowly step out of the shadows* 'Lo?
local Denver: *brows shoot toward her hairline as she realizes that there actually IS someone where she thought there was* 'Lo yerself.
Denver: *will hold up the part* W's tol' t' deliver th's.
local Denver: *looks at the short haired older woman dressed in military PT, and wonders at the shadows in her face and eyes* ...Wh't's goin' 'n 'eah?
Denver: Ah w's sent bah s'me'un t' bring th's t' y'u. *quieter* Mah storeh went diff'rent th'n y'urs.
local Denver: *frowns and runs her fingers through her hair, then winces as she accidentally yanks the knot out of it and it all flops down around her neck. Turns her head to glance inside* *quietly* Tracks' sleepin'. Y'u bes' c'min fer a bit.
Denver; *small nod, will move to follow her counterpart*
local Denver: *into the echoing, car scented coolness of the garage, where she grabs a rag and wipes her hands and a few spots on her ripped jeans and worn flannel shirt with the arms torn off. Eyes go over toward where a blue and white Autobot with a red face is propped up and sleeping peacefully* So jes' who's y'ur whasis for?
Denver: *quick check of data* 'T's f'r Mistfahr.
local Denver: *surprised as she turns back from the dinged counter and offers a chipped mug full of coffee* Fer Misteh?
Denver: *small nod as she accepts the offered mug and exchanges it for the item she was told to deliver* Yup.
local Denver: *studies the gadget, then sets it down and puts her hands up to once more tie her hair. In the process she exposes a neat surgical scar behind one ear*
Denver: *blinks and raises one rown* Wh't w's th' surgereh f'r?
local Denver: *quizzical look as she gets her own coffee cup, but then puts her fingers to the scar* *quietly* Ws t' 'elp somebodeh. *blue eyes turn toward the Autobot as she speaks* *and those eyes hold a very slight silver sheen*
Denver: *small nod* Nanobots, aght?
local Denver: *head turns as her attention snaps back to this older version of herself* 'Owed y'u know th't?
Denver: Ah ain't 'zactleh 's ah appear.
local Denver: *lightly rubs the scar* Though, this ain't from th' nanobots. This' the control intafahce fer... somethin' else. *curious frown as she studies the older Denver* Y'u Pretendah too?
Denver: S'meth'n lahk th't.
local Denver: *starts to say something else, but instead walks over quickly, her steps silent in their worn moccasins, to lay a hand on the leg of the Autobot* Shhh, Tracks. Gowan back t' sleep.
Tracks: *soft groan and a whisper as the hand he'd had resting on the back of the vintage 'Cuda rubs the car's roof gently*
local Denver: *glances at the other Denver and blushes slightly, but continues to say soothing things*
Denver: *quietly* Don' worreh 'bout 't.
local Denver: *winces ticklishly as she walks over to join the other woman. Behind her, Tracks is once more gently smoothing his hand over the 'Cuda, this time over its side* So yu'r UPS Plus?
Denver: *very soft snort* UPS cain't pack 'n deliver th' way Ah c'n.
local Denver: *blinks, and then muffles her laughter with one hand as she tries not to spill her coffee with the other*
Denver: *brat grin is unrepentant and there's a slight twinkle in her eyes*
local Denver: *nods to a beat up stool* Set a spell. *hooks a milk crate over with her foot for her own seat, but then pauses and glances toward the little fridge that's humming under the counter* Ah got s'me pah, iffin' yu'r 'ungreh.
Denver: *small nod, moves to sit* 'Ow long've th' Autobots been 'round?
local Denver: *looks over from putting little pies on a plate* Dunno. Ah ain' asked. Four yeahs 't least. Y'u want milk with yu'r pah?
Denver: 'S 't apple pah?
local Denver: *quietly* No, sorreh. T's black cherreh.
Denver: Th't's good w't milk, too.
local Denver: *grins and brings the plate and the milk pitcher. Knows that this other Denver won't bother with sipping milk from a glass when there's cherry pie to have* *grin fades as she hands them over* *quietly* Y'u ever have pah Miranda made?
Denver: *quietly, as she accepts the offered items* Yeahs 'go... 'Fore she got sick.
local Denver: *still quiet* Ah 'ardleh remembah 'er, but she showed me how t' do this before she dahd.
Denver: *very slight frown as she realizes her counterpart is asking her about Miranda's pie*
local Denver: *expression goes from uncertainty and hope of approval to surprise* It ain't th't bad? Th' gahs 'eah eat 't.
Denver: Y'u don' talk t' Hattie 'r Tom 'bout pah? *muffled, as she just had a bite of pie*
local Denver: *surprise goes to a curious frown* Who's they?
Denver: *blinks* Gran'Ma Hattie, 'n Ma's older brothah, Tom.
local Denver: *curiosity fades as she shrugs* Ah nevah met aneh 'a Miranda's brothahs, 'n Gran'Ma Hattie's ben a vegetable since Ah w's little.
Denver: *shocked expression is a go* Wh't?!
local Denver: *startles and gives her a slightly wide eyed look* Wh't? Jethro didn' lahk 'em, 'cause they trahd t' keep him 'n Miranda frm' marryin'. So th'y decided we's all trash.
Denver: *so much frown, will see if she can't find out more information online* Th't ain't rahght...
local Denver: *shrugs* Ah don' cayah either wah. Ben on mah own since Ah w's fifteen, wit'out no 'elp fr'm aneh of 'em.
Denver: *so much frown as she finds a decided lack of information that's easily accessible. Makes a mental note to bug Charlie about this later* Hattie'd be worry'n' 'bout y'u f' she knew...
local Denver: *shrugs* *but Denver, who knows the younger woman's face as she knows her own, and who can see her bodily reactions to emotion, will see the passing sadness that she feels* Ah gotta good famileh rahght 'eah. Sistahs 'n brothahs 'n a Pa too. Don' need nothin' else.
Denver: *quietly* 'T bothahs y'u th't th'y 'aven't even called t' beg moneh.
local Denver: *scowls at the older Denver* No 't don't. *then meeps softly and squirms slightly, her free hand going to her side*
Denver: *softly* Ah sh'ld go...
local Denver: *looks back to her quickly* Eat yu'r pah.
Denver: *very slight quirk of a smile, will resume eating pie*
local Denver: *sips coffee and rubs the wide bracelet that she wears on one wrist, then fiddles with it absently* Y'u joined th' armeh?
Denver: Marines. W's a Major.
local Denver: *slight frown as she twists the bracelet around and 'round on her wrist* W's? Y'u quit?
Denver: *quietly, as she chases a piece of crust around with her spoon* Ah dahed 'n mah realiteh.
local Denver: *blinks. Then blinks again and frowns* Ah don' undahstahnd.
Denver: *will explain about Exiles and the Multiverse. Will also explain how she and her husband were separated by a bigot and how that affected them*
local Denver: *flat footed shock in her stare* Y'u bonded wit' 'n Autobot? Y'u c'n do th't?
Denver: *quietly* Didn't realahze 't w's possible 'til Ahrnhahd tol' me w't 'd 'appened.
local Denver: *brows go up further* Ahrnhahd? Ratchet's brothah?
Denver: *small nod* 'E 'n Ah w're marriehd, too.
local Denver: Wheah's 'Mia? *frown*
Denver: *quietly* Shockwave got 'er.
local Denver: *hisses through her teeth and bites off a word that Tracks and Sparkplug would object to* *instead, quietly* Wh't's 'e lahk?
Denver: Who? Ahrnhahd?
local Denver: *nods and tries to hide her curiosity behind a sip of coffee*
Denver: *slight smile* 'E's stubborn, 'n passionate. Loyal, 'n a bit 'f a grouch.... But Ah w'ldn't want aneh'un else t' watch mah back.
local Denver: *frowwwn* Grouch?
Denver: 'E 'n Ah got t' know each othah bah arguin' 'bout th' old music... Th' ol' war ballads 'n tradtitional songs'a Scotland 'n th' surroundin' areas...
local Denver: *eyes searching the older Denver's face, suspicion clear in her own though it'd be hidden from most humans* *bluntly* 'E yell at y'u?
Denver: Ah yelled rahght back. *smirk*
local Denver: *upset huff* Ah'd nevah be wit' a man th't'd yell 't me. 'N y'u shuldn' be eithah.
Denver: Ah don' let 'im bulleh me. 'E 'n Ah may yell 't 'un 'nothah, but we's both passionate people, 'n stubborn t' boot.
local Denver: *expression says that she doesn't believe you, Denver. Her own memories of her loudly abusive father are still too strong in her mind*
Denver: *quieter* 'E trahed t' go quahetly, so Ah c'ld survahve... 'F Ah'd'a been 'n DC wh'n 'e went, Ah prolleh w'ld'a lived.
local Denver: *just shakes her head and takes the empty plate and the milk pitcher and mug, then turns to bring them to the counter. Shoulders are stiff with disapproval and disbelief*
Denver: *softly* Ahrnhahd 'as mah six covahed... 'N Ah've got 'is covahed... We's jes' a paiuh 'f ol' soldiers too stubborn t' lay down 'n dah.
local Denver: *shortly* Ah best git th's work done bef're th' othahs git back.
Denver: *small nod* Alrahght. *will move to get up, pausing only long enough to stoop and reach for a crumpled piece of paper that was on the floor*
paper: *letterhead says "MacKenzie and Sons Construction". Letter itself is an uneducated, badly spelt scrawl in pencil that tells Denver that she owes Jethro and that she's obliged to take care of his and Cyndy's child. It's signed "Beau"*
Denver: *low growl*
local Denver: *shoots her a Look at the growl*
Denver: *firmly, looking her counterpart in the eye* Y'u don' owe Jethro a $#%$#%$# th'n, 'n y'u ain't obligated t' 'im 'r aneh'un else who ain't gonna treat y'u w't' dignity 'n respect.
local Denver: *sees the letter and comes to get it, wiping her hand on her jeans as she comes* Ah don' owe nothin' t' the creep th't threw me out when Ah w's fifteen 'cause 'is teenage shack up said Ah scahed 'er.
Denver: *quieter, handing the letter to her counterpart* 'N y'u don't gotta take care 'f Beau 'f y'u don' want t'. *even though it's clear her own brother was someone dear to her*
local Denver: *crumples the letter again* Th's ain't 'bout Beau. This's 'bout Jethro's oldest son wit' th' *word deleted*.
Denver: Ain't gotta care f'r th't brat, 'specialleh 'f y'u don' want t'.
local Denver: Ah w's told when 'e threw me out not t' 'ave nothin' t' do with 'is famileh. 'N Ah don't intendta. *pitches the letter into the trash can as she turns back toward the counter*
Denver: Good riddence t' bad rubbish. *nods*
local Denver: Not mah fault 'e's got twenneh kids now. *busy with dishes cleaning*
Denver: Good grief. *headshake*
local Denver: *quietly* Bunch'a lyin', thevin' lil' *word removed*s.
Denver: ... D' y'u got proof?
local Denver: *shrugs* W's in the newspapah. *great way to catch up on family, huh?*
Denver: *frowns and tries to look anything relevant up online*
Charlie: -Denver, where did you go?-
Denver: *slight start* -Countahpaht's shop... 'Er famileh's causin' 'er all kahnds 'f slag.-
Charlie: *pause. Then* -I only sense you and her in the shop.-
Denver: *will relay everything she's learned* -Tracks 's 'eah, too.-
Charlie: -How's he look?-
Denver: -E's a mess, Charlie...- *will tell what she's seen of the mech so far, will also mention what her counterpart said about the control interface, as well as the scar on the local Denver's neck*
Charlie: -Alright. Come back. There's still the second half of the mission to do. I'll debrief you when you get here.-
Denver: -Alrahght.- *to her counterpart* Stay safe.
local Denver: *snorts without looking around* Same t' y'u.
Denver: *PINpoints back to where Charlie is*
Charlie: *hands her a fifty and another package much larger than the last and wrapped in brown paper* Alright. Ask questions.
Denver: F'rst off, whah 's mah 'usband 'n Angus bull calf?
Charlie: *snorts* Poker.
Denver: *SNERK* *headshake* Alrahght th'n. Second, wh're 's th's goin'? Third, who's 't f'r?
Charlie: You're going back to the same reality, several weeks later. That's for Witchblade. Any other questions?
Ironhide: *deep voiced calfy imprecation as he headbutts an alter brother in the foot*
Denver: Wh're's Raoul? *knows realities of that type tend to have Raouls and Tracks who flock together*
Charlie: He was at a movie when you were there last. He'll be in the shop when you go again. *sends her a mental image of a serious boy with Autobot blue eyes and biking gloves worn to hide the silver veins in his hands*
Denver: *small nod* *soft snort as lbIronhide sets Mira on her husband's back*
Charlie: He was beaten to a pulp shortly after Tracks was injured. Ratchet and Perceptor gave him an infusion of nanobots to save his life. His skeleton is metal now, as are his nails. He's also very close to a little blue femmebot named Kriti.
Denver: *very soft snerk, remembers something her counterpart from the reality with dragons said* Not surprahsed th're.
Charlie: *blue eyes show a flash of amusement* Anything else?
Denver: Wh't's th' situation wit' Hattie?
Charlie: *listens a bit* She hasn't been able to move or speak since a car accident three years after the local Denver was born. Matilda had her declared a vegetable.
Charlie: Hattie's husband, older daughter, and older son were killed in the accident.
Denver: *quietly* Th't 'splains wah th' local gal di'n't know Tom.
Charlie: *nods* Matilda managed to have her own oldest son declared Hattie's heir.
Denver: *expression darkens*
Charlie: *impassively* Anything else?
Denver: Ah'll fahnd out moah fr'm mah countahpaht 'f Ah see 'er.
Ironhide: *presses flat of his curly head against his wife's butt and pushes gently*
Denver: *soft grunt, will gently rub husband's ears*
Mira: *chatter chatter squeak*
Ironhide: *complaining sound and a sigh*
Denver: Sh'ld'a thought twahce 'bout play'n' poker wit' th'm, 'Hahd.
Ironhide: *snorts and tosses his head, then looks at Mira as she squeals with delight*
Denver: *soft snerk*
Mira: *claps bitty hands and babbles happily. Liked the shaky ride, Unca!*
Ironhide: *flicks ears back and forth, and then gives his hide an experimental shiver*
Mira: *happy squee*
Denver: Th't's cute, 'Hahd. *small smile*
Ironhide: *snorts and walks off, his tail twitching*
Denver: *snerks as Mira's happy talking and babbling mixes in with crowd sounds, will PINpoint to where she needs to go*
Tracks: *awake and trying to comfort a black, cream, and dark green femmebot who is clinging to him and crying hysterically*
lime green femmebot: *starts to get up from where she'd been kneeling beside them, but stops as she sees who just arrived* Y'u!
Raoul: *from where he's sitting in a huddle with a little blue femmebot, a human girl with long black hair, and a scared looking brown haired boy* Who's "you"?
Denver: *startles badly, not realizing that there's a faint outline of a massive red bot around her* Er, 'lo?
Raoul: *starts to reply, but then protests as the lime green bot grabs Denver with both hands* Hey, Flashpoint. Don't crush 'er.
Flashpoint: *shaking as she clings to her alternate*
Denver: *badly rattled at this point, has to shut her eyes. Doesn't realize that said eyes are glowing faintly* *quietly* Brought s'meth'n f'r Witchblade.
Flashpoint: *circulating deeply* *quiet, her voice crackling with grief and fright* Wh't... wh't 's 't?
Denver: *quiet* N-Not sure... Jes' tol' bah mah boss t' deliver 't t' 'er... *trying to calm down*
Flashpoint: *looks at the package* "Install ASAP"... *sets Denver on Tracks and then gently pulls Witchblade away from him, speaking soothingly all the while. Stiffens as a scream comes echoing through the huge door in the back wall, a scream full of pain and despair. Someone is calling for Scattershot in a voice that says that she doesn't expect an answer*
Flashpoint: *clears her vocalizer and resumes speaking to Witchblade as she swiftly installs the part where she can see that it'll fit* Ah dunno wh't th's is, Witchy. But Ah pray it'll help y'u. Th' babeh's gonna need somebodeh.
Witchblade: *can only cry, and cling to Flashpoint as soon as her chest is closed up*
Denver: *head ducked, is hugging herself and praying silently*
Michaela: *head on Spike's shoulder as she sobs raggedly but nearly soundlessly*
Kriti: *just hugging herself and watching the door with heather eyes that show red streaks*
scream: *comes again, is wordless this time*
Denver: *praying silently and doing her best not to panic*
Raoul: *is that hand on her back* Hey, lady... *is as upset as his friends, but is repressing it and forcing himself to function*
Denver: *FLINCH* *quietly, voice and body shaking* Wh't 'appened?
Raoul: *quietly* Mistfire's in labour. Ratchet says she probably ain't gonna make it.
Denver: *looks up, eyes glowing a bit brighter in her distress* Wh're's 'er mate?
Raoul: *looks back* Dead. Lockdown slagged 'im.
Denver: ... *doesn't look so good right now*
Raoul: *offers a hug. It's all he's got*
Tracks: *lifts his head slightly* I hear the sparklet.
tiny voice: *raised up in bitter protest back there somewhere*
Witchblade: *just slumped, her optics darkening as she passes out cold with the shock of suddenly not hearing her sister for the first time in her life*
Flashpoint: *crying soundlessly as she lays the insensate femmebot back and tries to make her comfortable on the bed by the entrance door*
Denver: *shoulders shaking now, is also crying soundlessly as she flashes back to the day at Diego Garcia*
Raoul: Shhh. *hand on Denver's back* You wanna go home? How do you go?
hall door: *opens, and a weary Wheeljack steps through with a bright magenta baby bot in his arms*
Denver: *doesn't seem to hear you, Raoul. Is reaching for her husband without realizing it*
Flashpoint: *suddenly holding the newspark close to Denver, wondering if sight of the baby will help the older Denver snap out of the shock she's in*
sparklet: *waves her arms furiously, accidentally smacking Denver and Raoul in the process*
Raoul: Heyoof! *tumbles off Tracks and onto the floor*
Denver: *startled squeal, activates her PINpoint without thinking*
Charlie: *looks at her as she lands in a heap, then looks up at her as she changes in response to the stress* I'll just step over here. Out of purge range.
Denver: *trembling, optics nearly white. Frantic search for husband*
Ironhide: *is beefy metal arms closing around her from behind*
Denver: *will hide her face against husband. And cry*
Ironhide: *rocks on the balls of his feet and cuddles her. Also rumbles and frowns down at Charlie quizzically*
Charlie: *will wisely wait till the lady's calmed down. Can faintly hear some of her relations talking about the music they hear and wondering who died*
Denver: *quietly, after awhile* Lockdown... 'E killed her mate. Witchblade's all 'lone now 'cept f'r th' babeh.
Ironhide: *as the two of them dwindle back down to their human forms* You mean a Mistfire?
Denver: *nods and hides against husband shoulder again*
Charlie: She's not alone. She's got her new sister.
Ironhide: *absent stink eye for Charlie*
Denver: *softly* Poor Mistfire.
Charlie: *gruffly* She's alright now.
Denver: *small nod*
Charlie: *impassive again* Do you want to go back and let them know what happened to you?
Ironhide: *growls at him*
Mira: *so much approval of the sound from where she's clinging to the back of his jacket!*
Denver: *quickly* Not 'lone.
Charlie: *frowns at Denver*
Denver: *clinging to Ironhide's shirt*
Ironhide: *expression says clearly that there will be mayhem if Charlie tries to separate him from his wife right now*
Charlie: *radiates disapproval without changing expression* You can't take Mira.
Mira: *chirps and peeks over Unca's shoulder*
Charlie: *looks around for Mira's father, who has evidently lost track of the sparklet in the crowd*
lbIronhide: *trying to find the bitlet. Is being confused by the presence of three other Miras who are at the Black Dog today*
Charlie: *telekenetically grabs some energon pellets and forms them into an arrow over dliIronhide's head*
Mira: *looks up and chirps. Can smell and see the noms!*
lbIronhide: *will make his way over, rumbling quietly all the while*
Ironhide: *looks up as he spots his alter brother coming. Frowns at him as a matter of course*
lbIronhide: *hand out, wants sparklet back, please*
Ironhide: *turns back-and bitty- toward him*
lbIronhide: *will snag bitty, and some of the floating energon pellets*
rest of the pellets: *fall down, sliding into all sorts of places in his chest plating*
Ironhide: *presses the button on his wife's PINpoint*
Denver: *deep breaths, peeks*
Ironhide: *realizes they're up on a roof. Grudgingly approves of this*
local Denver: *sitting on the edge of the roof a few feet away from them. Is so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't hear them arrive*
Denver: *hesitantly untangles fingers from husband's shirt*
Ironhide: *pat pats her hand and watches to see what she wants him to do*
Denver: *will gently squeeze his hand and cautiously approach her local counterpart* *soft, throat clearing sound*
local Denver: *startles and turns quickly to look up. Eyes go from Denver to the wild-bearded man whose hand she's holding*
Denver: *quietly* Th's 's Ahrnhahd. Mah 'usband. *because she can't think of anything else to say right now*
local Denver: *shudders and looks away again* *quietly, her voice full of fright and pain* Ah... can't do th't.
Ironhide: *frowns at her, then glances at his mate*
Denver: *hesitantly scooting closer, won't let go of your hand, Ironhide* *softly* No'un said y'u 'ad t'...
local Denver: *bites her lip and squeezes her eyes shut* Tracks asked meh. Ah... Ah alreadeh said yes. But Ah cain't.
Denver: *gentle hand on counterpart's back*
local Denver: *lowers her forehead to her knees and cries* Misteh w's 'urtin' so bad. Ah could 'ear it. 'N y'u too. Y'u tol me how yeh felt...
Denver: *quietly* Ah still w'ldn't trade 't f'r anehth'n 'n th' world.
local Denver: *soft despair and fear* Ah cain't.
Denver: *will click softly as she moves to sit down, gently tugging Ironhide's hand as well*
Ironhide: *frowns, but sits. Is uncertain and uncomfortable with the situation, but has no intention of abandoning his wife right now*
Denver: *quietly* Ah sat 'n th' barracks roof each nahght f'r a week 'afore Ahrnhahd 'n Ah got marriehd.
local Denver: *without lifting her head* Wah? Y'u said y'u didn' know y'u could bond.
Denver: We got marreied wit' papers 'n ev'rehth'n.
local Denver: Th's's diff'rent.
Denver: 'T's still bein' married.
local Denver: Ain't wh't Ah'm talkin' 'bout.
Denver: *very slight frown, not sure what advice she could give in this situation*
Ironhide: *quietly, as he looks down at the roof beneath him* //Denver, look at Tracks.//
Denver: *will look down*
Tracks: *carefully holding a container of energon in one slightly shaky hand and being unendingly patient with the cranky little sparklet that he's feeding* Who's a good girl. Yes, it's you. You're such a good girl, Magenta. Shhh. Don't worry, we'll tap out that bit. It's just gone the wrong way. Therrrrre. Yes. *smiles absently at the young people that are surrounding him and/or sitting snuggled against the sleeping Witchblade*
Denver: *very slight smile* //Aww.//
Ironhide: *quiet and gruff* //He's not going anywhere for a long time. And Tracks is never a front liner.//
Denver: //So 'e'll wait f'r 'er t' be ready?//
Ironhide: //She hasn't got anything to worry about. Though if that shell of hers...// *studies the Barricuda* //It's got a spark. A simple one. The bond would make him stronger.//
Ironhide: *quizzical look*
Denver: //We need t' tell 'er.//
Ironhide: //You think she doesn't know? She said she got the upgrade to help him.// *got that from his wife's thoughts*
Denver: //'Un way t' fahnd out...//
Ironhide: *grunts at that moment because the local Denver just got up and hurried to the other side of the roof*
local Denver: *absently excuses herself, and then looks down and sees with a scowl that her ears hadn't fooled her and that her father is standing down below arguing with Sparkplug as a scruffy blond guy sits behind him at the wheel of a crew cab three quarter ton truck full of young Native guys*
Sparkplug: I don't care who you are. We just had a death in the family, so come back some other time.
Jethro: Ah ain' leavin' without wh't's mahn! Th't gal's comin' wit' me!
Sparkplug: *deep scowl and then deliberately turns to go inside*
Denver: *low growl. Recognizes the voice all too well*
Ironhide: *firm grip on his wife's arm as he leads her over to look* *then gives a muffled exclamation and grabs too late at the local Denver as she leaps from the roof*
Jethro: *gets death from above right after he grabbed Sparkplug by the shoulder and whirled him around to hit him in the face*
Native guys: *along with the blond come boiling out of the truck*
Raoul: *shouts and throws up the garage door he'd been crouching and watching from under, then leads a charge of Kriti, Michaela, and Spike*
local Denver: *just did a very business like number on her father! Looks like somebody's taught the girl to fight*
Jethro: *down and yelling for his sons and his common law wife's nephews to get the *word deleted*!*
Denver: *wants to join in the fracas*
Ironhide: *won't let her!*
Michaela: *girl, you're not supposed to kick people like that*
Spike: *if the right one don't getcha then the left one will!*
Raoul: *back to back with Kriti and going to town*
Sparkplug: *trying to stop the fight and getting pounded*
Denver: *bristling and growling obscenities as two of the guys yank young Denver off Jethro and the man lunges to his feet and goes after Sparkplug again*
Sparkplug: *manages to twist around and bunches Jethro's shirt collar up around the man's neck* You have no right coming here and doin' this! Denver's had to struggle to survive all this time without any help from you!
Jethro: She's mahn! *trying to get out of the throttle hold*
Ironhide: *looks up as the horn of a rig blares, then relaxes his shoulders slightly* Optimus. Good.
Denver: *still shaking with rage, wants to knock Jethro's teeth in*
red rig: *rises up into a huge, red, grey, and blue robot. Beside him a pink and gold classic Chevy becomes a tall and scowling femmebot*
Optimus: That's enough! Everyone stop this at once!
Jethro's bunch: *getting out of Dodge!*
Jethro: *lays and wheezes where Sparkplug chucked him on the ground till Beau and another guy grab him and drag him into the back of the crew cab*
Denver: *going to try and crouch there on the roof*
Kriti: *moving to check everyone over for injuries*
Raoul: *licking his knuckles as he watches the crew cab squeal away around the corner, then absently pats his girlfriend on the shoulder and hurries inside to check on Tracks and tell him what happened*
Ironhide: *clambers down and goes inside as well*
Denver: *moving to follow husband*
Tracks: *holding frightened sparklet close to his chest as he listens to Raoul and scowls as strongly as he can* The nerve of some people!
Ironhide: *quietly* I've got full video from nearly the beginning.
Tracks and Raoul: *interested expressions*
Raoul: That'll help, man.
Denver: *doing her best to keep calm* 'Ow old 's she?
Tracks: *looks over* Nearly twenty-one.
Denver: *small nod* Th'n th't #$%#$#%$# ain't got a legal claim over 'er rahghts.
Tracks: *slight sniff as he rubs Magenta's little back* Considering he abandoned her when she was fifteen... *then looks toward the door and perks as the Barracuda suddenly slips out from under his elbow and rises up into the lime green femmebot* *softly* Flash. Are you hurt?
Raoul: *slight smile as he turns away so he can't see that expression on his best friend's face*
Ironhide: *amused look for his wife*
Denver: *very slight smile, will move to lean on husband*
Flashpoint: *combines with young Denver and sighs deeply as she lays her head on Tracks' shoulder, then just kneels there in silence for several minutes till a little hand pats her face* *opens eyes and looks at Magenta* *tiredly* Wh't?
Magenta: Mam. My Mam.
Flashpoint: *blinks, and then lays her head down again and cries*
Tracks and Magenta: *distress! Offer comfort!*
Optimus: *is the soft rumble of big feet tip toeing past as he heads for the door in the back wall, which is currently standing open*
Elita: *pauses to look at the group around the sparklet, her lips pressed together with concern, but then follows her husband*
Denver: *very soft clicks*
Tracks: *gentle kiss for Flashpoint's helm* I won't let him take you.
Raoul: *quietly* Man, what're you gonna do? Huff at 'im?
Tracks: *cheek resting on Flashpoint's head as he holds her close* Hush, you.
Kriti: *with Sparkplug's help is bringing Spike to Ratchet. Someone's been kneecapped pretty badly*
Raoul: *looks over there, and then jumps down to help as he notices that Sparkplug's limping too*
Ratchet: *comes out to get the casualties. His words to Kriti are gentle and make it clear how he sees the young femmebot*
Ironhide: *can't help a quiet snort as he watches that*
Kriti: *is very worried about her human friends, and it shows*
Denver: //Nevah realahzed Ratch c'ld be a parent...//
Ironhide: *gives her an amused look* //All Ratchet is is an old mother hen.//
Denver: *very soft snerk*
Ironhide: *then frowns* //It's too bad about Beau here.//
Denver: *sighs and snuggles* //Yeah... 'E w's a good kid.//
Ironhide: *and then looks over toward Tracks and Flashpoint as he realizes that she's quietly expressing her fears about bonding*
Tracks: *listening without interrupting, his expression grave*
Majenta: *holding hands with Mam and watching her face*
Denver: *quiet as she watches her counterpart*
Tracks: *softly, when Flashpoint falls silent after a shivering sigh* I had no idea that you meant that form of bonding, darling. I can't ask that of you when I'm so weak.
Flashpoint: The idea w's t' 'elp y'u, y'u dope.
Tracks: *mouth falls open slightly with surprise, and then he cuddles* I don't want you to turn your back on your humanity.
Flashpoint: *defiant ring in her voice* Wh't's 'umaniteh eveh done f'r me?
Tracks: *optics darken with sympathy, and he rubs her back gently* *softly* Denver, it's part of who you are.
Flashpoint: *shoulders shake as she cries in her soundless way, one hand holds Magenta's little hand to her cheek*
Tracks: *then turns his head as he hears Optimus and Elita fussing at each other*
Ironhide: *shoulders shaking in silent mirth as he hears that fussing*
Denver: *hand over mouth to hide her grin*
Tracks: Goodness. It's easy to see they're an old married couple. *very faint bit of a smile sneaks past his weariness and sadness as he realizes that Optimus wants to know their wishes for Mistfire's body, but doesn't want to interrupt them*
Flashpoint: *kissing the tiny Magenta hand now as she gazes blankly at the sparklet's little face* 'Ow long've they ben marriehed?
Tracks: *soft snort* Nine million years, give or take a few.
Flashpoint: *gasps and lifts her head to stare at him*
Ironhide: *hand to his mouth now as his amusement at Optimus and Elita continues*
Denver: *amused, shoulders are shaking as she tries not to laugh*
Flashpoint: *slowly* 'N 'ow long've Ahrnhahd 'n 'Mia ben married?
Tracks: *wryly* Since antiquity, to judge from Ironhide's age.
Ironhide: *rude hand sign and more silent laughter*
Denver: *silent snickerfitdie*
Ironhide: *gives her a wedgie*
Denver: *swats at husband's arm, growling a warning for the wedgie*
Flashpoint: *softly* 'N they's alahve. Ah... Ah don' got anehthin' t' be afraid 'a.
Tracks: *stern look* There will be no taking advantage of the ailing mech and marrying him before he approves.
Flashpoint: *squeaks and blushes!*
Denver: *looks over from battling husband* Yers does mush bettah th'n mahn.
Tracks: *you thought his face was red before?*
Flashpoint: *hiding her face as her shoulders shake with a mixture of laughter and tears*
Ironhide: *such a Look for you, wife!*
Denver: *SUCH an unrepentant grin for her husband. Will try to work one hand free for a retaliatory wedgie, or at least a poke to the belly button*
Tracks and Flashpoint: *both distracted from their conversation and their embarrassment by that interesting sound that Ironhide just made*
Magenta: *frowns deeply at the hairy stranger. Babby doesn't approve*
Ironhide: *ears red as he rubs his belly*
Denver: *working on freeing herself. Wants to make husband yell and chase her about*
Optimus: *softly then* Denver?
Flashpoint: *looks up* Ah'm Flashpoint rahght now, sir.
Optimus: Forgive me, Flashpoint. I... *just got stopped in his tracks by bitty glower*
Elita: *softly and kindly* We would like to know what you want done with the body.
Flashpoint: *embarrassment and amusement fade* *quietly* Witchy needs t' decahde th't. She w's Misteh's sistah first.
Optimus: *looks at the sleeping Witchblade, curled beneath the heated tarp beside Tracks* *quietly* We'll bring Mistfire to the Ark base and keep her there till Witchblade can let us know.
Flashpoint: *nods, her gaze returning to Magenta* Alraht.
Optimus: *gently and gravely* I'm sorry for your loss.
Flashpoint: *quietly* Thank y'u, sir.
Optimus: *nods to Tracks, then clears his throat and turns to go back down the corridor, his wife at his side*
Ironhide: *beard sticking out slightly as he firms his chin*
Denver: *arm around husband's waist*
Raoul: *quietly* Mikky, Kriti, 'n me'll witness if you wanna do a 'Con wedding, Tracks.
Ironhide: *glances over to where the young man's come to stand by the ailing Autobot's feet*
Flashpoint: *frowns at Raoul and wonders what he's talking about*
Denver: A word bondin'.
Tracks: It's not the time to be talking about such things, Raoul.
Michaela: Like *beep*. Misty wanted to see you two settled down. She knew it'd be good for Flash. That's why she decided to leave you her twin sister and her baby.
Raoul: *silent nod*
Denver: *quietly* 'N a word bond's jes' 's legal 's a sparkbond.
Ironhide: And then Jethro would have to cracked to think he had any claim to Denver.
Tracks: *gives them a quick glance of frowning consideration, then looks to Flashpoint*
Flashpoint: Ah don' want memorehs lahk this on mah weddin' day.
Kriti: *quietly* We'll protect you. You're family. Nobody can take our family from us.
Raoul: But today ain't really that bad. Misty's with her husband again. Right, Kriti?
Ironhide: *wordless nodding*
Kriti: *small nod* And giving my sisters trouble, more than likely.
Ironhide: *turns his wife's face toward the space by Witchblade's feet* Not yet.
Kriti: *also looks, blinking a bit as she does so*
Mistfire: *sitting there, utterly relaxed but with an expectant expression as she sits on the lap of a violently pink mech and crooks one arm back around his neck*
pink mech: *looks pretty smug, even though he's so translucent that the wall is clearly visible through him*
Denver: *raised brow and a soft snerk*
Ironhide: *conversational tone* I think she's got unfinished business.
Mistfire: *face is faint, but the smirk that just showed up on it is clear*
Scattershot: *so amused*
Denver: Stuff lahk witness'n' 'er sis git married, Ah'd reckon? *guessing*
Mistfire: *smirk grows, and then turns absolutely wicked as she sees the brain broken look on Tracks' face as he notices her and her mate for the first time*
Michaela: ...I don't see anything.
Raoul: o.o I do.
Kriti: *quietly, sounding a bit spooked* I do, too.
Scattershot: *more amusement*
Flashpoint: *lifts her head and looks. Also sees nothing, but rubs her arms as something makes her circuits crackle faintly*
Mistfire: *waves at her, and then points commandingly at Tracks before making a chop chop gesture*
Scattershot: *gives Tracks and Flashpoint a "Well, what are you waiting for?" look*
Raoul: Tracks, man. I don't think you're getting outta this.
Flashpoint: *looks toward the people who can see the freesparks* Th'y makin' faces?
Denver: Naw. Jes' trahn' t' git y'all t' 'urreh 't up 'n git marriehd.
Flashpoint: But whah?
Mistfire: *lets go her husband's neck and reaches over to poke Raoul*
Raoul: *winces, but then scowls* Jethro's trying to marry you to his girlfriend's grandpa. If you marry him he'll give Jethro a lot of money to save the MacKenzie construction business and pay the fines Jethro's second oldest son's got.
Tracks: *muttered imprecation* The nerve... uncooth boor... How dare he?
Magenta: Thrrrpt thhrrpt thrrpt! *has no idea what's got everyone in a twist, but she'll agree with them*
Tracks: *gets hold of Flashpoint's hand* Denver Annette MacKenzie, you're my wife.
Denver: Claim 'im back, ya yahoo!
Flashpoint: *floundering* Ah do. Uh. Y'u're mah 'usband. *hides face in hands*
Kriti: I witness!
Raoul: Me too.
Michaela: *so lost* I saw it.
Mistfire: *thumbs up, and then decides to snog her husband*
Scattershot: *thumbs up, snogs wife*
Denver: *soft snerk* Ah witness, too.
Ironhide: *gives Denver a quick kiss, and then goes to tell Optimus that he needs to get a marriage licence written up*
Raoul: *looking expectantly at Tracks and Flashpoint*
Tracks: *sternly* No. I will not amuse your puerile humour.
Denver: *soft snerk*
Kriti: *going to move to cuddle Raoul*
Raoul: *wide smirk as he puts his arm around Kriti's waist*
Charlie: -You're done there for now, Denver.-
Denver: -Jes lemme git mah 'usband.-
Charlie: -Right. Absolutely no leaving trash behind.-
Denver: *HUFF* -Charlie!-
Charlie: *is a feeling of amusement and the wordless thought of having earned extra pay*
Tracks and Flashpoint: *along with the young people are looking quizzically at Denver after her huff*
Denver: *going to go grab her husband*
Optimus: *turns those serious blue eyes from Ironhide to Denver as she comes into the computer room* *quietly* Thank you, Denver, for coming to help us here.
Denver: *small nod* *quietly* Jes' wish Ah c'ld'a given Jethro a piece'a mah mahnd.
Optimus: *gravely* I think it better that Jethro know as little as possible about you and your husband.
Denver: *small nod, and a frown as she glances over her shoulder* Will th'y be safe?
Optimus: They will. Bumblebee and Windcharger will be here shortly, and will be staying on as permanent guards.
Denver: *small nod* Good. *looks to husband* We sh'ld git goin'.
Ironhide: *nods with his usual reluctance to leave an Optimus behind, but then salutes and comes to stand by his wife*
Optimus: *bit of surprise, then returns the salute and watches them*
Denver: *also salutes, will bring husband to the Black Dog*
Mira: *squeals and pounces! Bitty is hyper!*
Ironhide: Ack! *rumbles a laugh and orders a drink for his wife and another treat for the green sparklet*
Denver: *snerks and tries to keep the longing expression off of her face as she watches Ironhide interact with the little bundle of parts*
((Written with random_xtras))