Flashback - Learn to Share - Closed
Mar 11, 2012 14:24:36 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Mar 11, 2012 14:24:36 GMT -5
"I am going out on patrol," Chromia had told him early that rotation, in the tone that said LISTEN to me and don't talk back, the one she used on her drill classes. "I will be gone until 26,82. During that time you, you big lug, are going to stay here and mind Blue."
Ironhide had reached eager hands out for their adopted sparkling, optics brightening as his cohort mate sighed and handed over the tiny new spark. "Yeh ain't got nothin' t' worry about," he'd told the femme, grinning, and gave her a sloppy off hand salute as he cradled the sparkling against his chassis. "We'll be just fine, won't we, Blue?"
The last was to the drowsy, half in recharge sparkling, who chirred quietly to him. Ironhide let his engine rumble back, long and slow and soothing, free hand coming up to trace light as air fingertips along the small, incredibly delicate plates of the tiny helm.
Chromia's hand had come out of nowhere, grabbing him by the flanges of his helm and jerking his optics back up to her. Assured that she had his attention, she had smiled. "Jazz," she had told him in a sweet tone that had pure military grade plate armor under it, "is coming off shift in another two breems. That gives you two almost all rotation together. I expect," she'd added firmly, "that when I get back, YOU will have learned how to SHARE."
Or else, had been the unspoken addendum, and Ironhide had given her a better, more proper salute, and promised that yes, of course, and Bluestreak was safe with him, and she didn't need to worry about anything, they would be fine. Perfectly, absolutely, FINE. Have a good patrol, stay safe, love you, see you later.
That had been nearly two breem earlier. Jazz was going to come off shift any klik now, strolling into the quarters they didn't - quite - officially all share, and there was Ironhide... with a soundly recharging sparkling tucked up safe and warm underneath a loosened plate of his chassis, close to his spark, and a cohort given directive to 'share'.
Sighing, he let his helm thunk down against the worktable he had been sitting at, the half assembled ion canon in front of him barely touched as he'd lost entire handfuls of kliks at a time to the careful, attentive monitoring of the small spark pressed with precious care so near to his own. "Scrap," he muttered, and then almost bit his own glossa, rubbing a gentle thumb against the plate the sparkling was drowsing underneath. "Sorry. Yeh didn't hear that, sparklet."
Ironhide had reached eager hands out for their adopted sparkling, optics brightening as his cohort mate sighed and handed over the tiny new spark. "Yeh ain't got nothin' t' worry about," he'd told the femme, grinning, and gave her a sloppy off hand salute as he cradled the sparkling against his chassis. "We'll be just fine, won't we, Blue?"
The last was to the drowsy, half in recharge sparkling, who chirred quietly to him. Ironhide let his engine rumble back, long and slow and soothing, free hand coming up to trace light as air fingertips along the small, incredibly delicate plates of the tiny helm.
Chromia's hand had come out of nowhere, grabbing him by the flanges of his helm and jerking his optics back up to her. Assured that she had his attention, she had smiled. "Jazz," she had told him in a sweet tone that had pure military grade plate armor under it, "is coming off shift in another two breems. That gives you two almost all rotation together. I expect," she'd added firmly, "that when I get back, YOU will have learned how to SHARE."
Or else, had been the unspoken addendum, and Ironhide had given her a better, more proper salute, and promised that yes, of course, and Bluestreak was safe with him, and she didn't need to worry about anything, they would be fine. Perfectly, absolutely, FINE. Have a good patrol, stay safe, love you, see you later.
That had been nearly two breem earlier. Jazz was going to come off shift any klik now, strolling into the quarters they didn't - quite - officially all share, and there was Ironhide... with a soundly recharging sparkling tucked up safe and warm underneath a loosened plate of his chassis, close to his spark, and a cohort given directive to 'share'.
Sighing, he let his helm thunk down against the worktable he had been sitting at, the half assembled ion canon in front of him barely touched as he'd lost entire handfuls of kliks at a time to the careful, attentive monitoring of the small spark pressed with precious care so near to his own. "Scrap," he muttered, and then almost bit his own glossa, rubbing a gentle thumb against the plate the sparkling was drowsing underneath. "Sorry. Yeh didn't hear that, sparklet."