Flashback - Learn to Share - Closed

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The tiny grey sparkling blinked as Irohide got up the will power to share. Looking up to Jazz for a moment, takeing in his familiar face before being instantly drawn to The Thing. The big, shiny lighting up Thing. Somehow, impossibly hir optics got even wider, mouth opening to let out a soft coo of amazement. Ou wanted that...But Jazz made it clear ou would have to leave the saftey that is Ironhide to get it.

Tilting hir head up, waaay up Bluestreak let out a soft warbling trill at the larger mech before starting to crawl. Slowly, timidly at first but with gaining confidence. After all Ironhide was still here and Jazz was family too. Ou was completely safe. And REALLY wanted The Thing.

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It was easier, in the long run, to lock his elbow and shoulder joints to hold is arms in place and thereby remove the - utterly irrational, and Ironhide could admit that even if he couldn't do a slagging thing about it - urge to snatch the sparkling back into his grasp. His fingers twitched, wanting to gather the bitlet back up, but he managed to quell the movement, sitting still and tight as Bluestreak edged away from his grasp and, with more confidence, clambered over to Jazz.

He should be proud. He told himself that firmly. The tiny thing had been so traumatized when they had first found hir, barely willing to do more than peek out from behind a protective plate. And now... playing, climbing on things, inquisitive and exploring. He really ought to be proud. Bluestreak had come a long way in a very short amount of time.

Mostly, though, he just wanted to tuck hir back up beneath a plate, kept safe and warm, and he couldn't quite bite back the small sound of almost-protest that escaped him as the sparkling crawled over the last barrier of his frame and onto Jazz's.

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The sparkling placed hand, then knee, then entire weight on Jazz's knee. That entire weight was so VERY LIGHT, something that Jazz hadn't noticed before because Ironhide hadn't let him HOLD the bitlet before. (He had, several times, been allowed to TOUCH the sparkling. Gently. With a knuckle rather than a clawed finger. But actually HOLDING? Pit, no.)

Such a tiny, tiny little mechanism, chirring and whirring with delight as ou got hir hands on the ball. The ball, in reaction to the pressure on certain nubs, changed the patterns. Jazz grinned at Bluestreak's delight, hands coming up to cage the sparkling on his lap as he snuggled his back against Ironhide and commed, ::Evidently the lights'll blink in harmonic progressions. Hitting the right nubs turns it into some kind of math game that Lightbreak thought up. Now it's just pretty lights, but later on it'll be educational.::

Jazz cupped one hand behind Bluestreak's back, one finger stroking up and down oh so gently over metal that was more a vague suggestion of plating than the real thing.

::Ok, I take back most of the things I said about you being a nannybot. Not because you AREN'T, just because it's mostly justified. But only MOSTLY.:: Jazz tilted his head back against Ironhide's shoulder. ::You DO realize that one day he's going to want to leave your quarters, right?::

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So entranced by The Thing was Bluestreak hardly noticed Jazz's hands holding hir, the change of positions or the gentle stroke of a digit that was not Ironhides. Ou did how ever spare a moment to tilt hir helm up to look at the two adults. Optics big and bright and a smile just as brilliant taking up what little of hir face optics did not. Giving them both a happy little trill before retuning to all attention to The Thing, ou'd began to notice that pressing certain bumps made it light up in a certain pattern.

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Ironhide twisted to press the side of his faceplates to Jazz's helm, unwavering optics fixed on the sparkling in his cohort mate's lap. He bit down one half formed sound when Jazz's hands came up - instinctive, glitched, he KNEW the saboteur would be unfailingly careful but the sight of clawed fingers against foil thin plates made him itch. A second sound escaped before he could swallow it, involuntarily voiced at the large optics and smile that the tiny sparkling turned up towards them, and he was gripping Jazz's shoulder, trying to get closer, to cover them both, mate and sparkling together, within the protective circle of his reach.

::Primus, don't SAY that.:: He made himself exvent, made himself loosen his hold, but there was no power in the universe that would unpeel him from Jazz's side right then. ::Ah'm glitched. Ah know it. Ah honestly DO NOT know WHAT Ah'm gonna do. It ain't SAFE, Jazz. There's mechs out there who'd step on hir before they even knew ou was there.::

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::Oh, 'Hide.:: Jazz's glyphs were shaded with deep affection and wry humor. ::Guardian to the core, that's you. Don't worry. The world dealt with sparklings before now, I'm sure that we'll manage. And I hear that sparklings DO grow. And, y'know, get harder plating.::

Jazz had to admit that the hovering Ironhide and the sparkling in his lap felt kinda...nice. Protective and safe all at the same time. Not something he'd want all the time, but as a once-in-awhile? Nice.

"Figured it out, huh, Blue?" Jazz joined in, pressing a few nubs randomly, making the lights switch patterns and then start switching colors. Pit, The Thing had been made by Lightbreak. Jazz wouldn't be surprised if the right combination turned it into some kind of Sparkling Invulnerability Shield Generator. Which, Jazz was fairly certain, would only mollify Ironhide...somewhat.

::Ou won't be this small and helpless forever. We'll look out for hir. It'll be fine.:: Jazz turned his head to nuzzle against Ironhide's cheek. ::Maybe you could...let hir explore the floor in here? Maybe?::

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The little grey sparkling was for the most part oblivious to hir creators distress at the thought of going "outside." Far to interested in The Thing trying to fit one of the nubs into hir mouth. Watching as a long clawed Jazz-hand came down and pressed another nub to make a whole new pattern of lights. Trilling in glee, clapping little wing nubs flapping in excitement, turning to distress as the The Thing began to roll away. Tiny little hands reaching out for it and failing.

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His cohort mates were trying, Ironhide knew that, and in his own way, to the best of his abilities, he was as well. He really was. He just... didn't know how to explain that it didn't matter that the world had dealt with sparklings before, it hadn't dealt with THIS sparkling. HE was supposed to protect this sparkling, and oh Primus, he didn't have the right words or glyphs to express the level of spark deep tank churning horror that was caused by the idea of letting Bluestreak wander loose on the floor - or out of his grasp, or away from easy reach, or Chaos in the Pits there were THINGS on the floor, or...

He'd lunged halfway across Jazz to catch the blinking, flashing ball, returning it to Bluestreak's grasping tiny hands before he'd even consciously recognized what his optics were observing or in any way directed his own hydraulics into motion.

It was a triumph to all the things and random code strings inside of him that were telling him to keep the tiny bitlet safe and secure and untroubled. It felt a little like failure when he raised his optics to meet Jazz's. The saboteur didn't say anything, but Ironhide could feel the cohort given demand to SHARE with an underscore of STOP BEING IRRATIONAL and it wan't irrational, he wasn't glitched, but he couldn't deny that he couldn't explain why he was doing what he did either.

Clearing his vents with a huff, Ironhide gingerly slid off of the couch onto the floor beside Jazz. Struggling, fingers twitching with the need to just scoop Bluestreak out of his cohort mate's lap and tuck the bitlet away safe, Ironhide managed to push out words that he thought might be more in keeping with what his cohort wanted. "Maybe... maybe we could bring th' berth pad out, put it on th' floor? Somethin' nice an' soft... an' it'd keep th' ball from rollin' too far."

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Jazz beamed. Oh Primus, Ironhide's field was a mess of worry, one that SPIKED with the simple suggestion. And yet...compromise, though it obviously PAINED him to even think about it.

But, progress! Blue might even get out of their quarters someday, at this rate! Chromia'd be so proud.

Jazz scooped a careful hand under Bluestreak and his toy. "Hold on tight, little one, we're goin' somewhere."

Grip on sparkling secured, Jazz looked at Ironhide. "Great idea. Here. You take the package. I'll get the pad." He stood and held out Blue.

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Movement! they were moving and something was happening and ou still had The Thing. Rescued by Ironhide and now held tightly in tiny little hands. Chirping and peeping and making a whole mess of excited sparkling sounds as Jazz held hir out to hir creator to hold again. Jazz was great for play and snuggles but Ironhide was the best for all things as far as the little ball of grey and excited was concerned.

Optics wide and wing buds fluttering behind as he took hir from Jazz. Once again safe in the larger mechs hold.

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Ironhide scooped the tiny handful, ball and all, up against his plates once more. It was like the snapping in place of an energy shield, buzz and crackle, and then he could relax, all systems on standby, perimeter secured.

One tiny little weight cradled carefully against his plates, and all of the itching tension drained away. Ironhide lifted the sparkling, chirping back in a bass rumble to the little thing's noises, and watched in bemusement as Jazz went to strip the padding from their berth. Padding... on the floor. No different from padding on the berth, really. Less of a distance to fall from the edges. That was good. Swaying gently, Ironhide rumbled quietly, wordless and tuneless vibrations of comfort as he waited, hands cupped safe around the fragile treasure inside.

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Jazz returned with a smile on his face and a wad of padding bigger than he was in his arms. The padding went on the floor, the pillows following. Jazz dotted the padding with them, and when the berthpad looked sufficiently like a very squishy obstacle course, he looked up at Ironhide.

And now, the test.

Jazz beamed and gestured to the nest on the floor. "'kay! All ready. Set hir down and see how ou likes it."

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Ironhide looked from the pillows to his cohort mate and back again, then to the tiny frame in his hand and back, optics flickering through measurements and... no. No no no. No. There were at least nine routes a sparkling could take to get entirely off of the berthpad, and not enough room for the ball to roll a bit, and...

He tucked Bluestreak against his plating with one hand and shifted to sit beside the pad, reaching with the other to pluck pillows up and rearrange them around the edges, effectively blockading most of it. A few were, after some thought, put back into the center to serve as obstacles, then were rearranged another few times until he was satisfied.

Jazz, when he looked up, was doing the most masterful rendition of deliberately NOT laughing that Ironhide had ever seen.

Venting tiredly, Ironhide sagged, slowly and reluctantly placing Bluestreak down in the center of the arranged padding. "Go ahead," he huffed, "yeh bottle it up like that, yer gonna burst a line. Ah know. Ah'm fraggin' glitched." He jabbed a finger at the opposite side of the padding, where the blockade didn't quite extend to. "Sit down." He grimaced. "Please."

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Holding The Thing, close as Ironhide shifted the pad and pillows around. Tucked safely behind his arms but feeling restless and wiggling a little in his hold.

Then ou was on the pad surrounded by pillows. Optics wide and confused but not for long. The Thing slipped from hir hands, rolled and bounced away but it was at that moment that ou realized ou could chase after it on hir one. A big smile crossing hir face as ou crawled after it. Doorwings out for balance and giggling excitedly as ou chased The Thing.

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Jazz laughed delightedly, dropping a kiss on Ironhide's helm. "You ARE glitched, but that's all right. We love you anyway. And you are adorable and the best guardian a sparkling could want. Y'know, until ou grows up and wants to go anywhere. Then I imagine you two'll have issues, but until then...perfect."

Jazz pulsed quick love-fondness-pride at Ironhide but obediently took up his post guarding the other end of the pillow fort. The Thing rolled around bumpily on its little nubs, helped along by overenthusiastic sparkling hands and, when it got close enough, Jazz's gentle shoves. Bluestreak caught onto this chasing thing quickly, and--once Ironhide was reminded, gently, that playing catch required rolling the ball AWAY again, not using it as a lure to coax the sparkling back onto his frame--they soon had said sparkling scampering back and forth after the gaily blinking and drunkenly bouncing Thing.