Authors Note: This is a little something I've whipped up quickly for optimus prime 007. She needed cheering up quick. The slowing down of updates on FFN, family issues and other things have gotten her down, so here's some Sabre and Safire goodness. It's set in my version of the Movie 2007 universe, and it's a little additional 'extra' to my fic 'Scent of the Future'. It's set two months after Safire has been sparked. Optimus Prime and Elita One have two sparklings - Sabre (a mech, sparked first) and Safire (a femme, sparked second). Both still very young and learning about life.
Hope you enjoy this sweetie! There's another chapter to come.
The stage was set. The guns were cocked. Security had been briefed. Gates locked. Anything explosive had been shipped off to a far away country.
All that was left was the final goodbye.
"You guys be good, okay? Be nice to poor Optimus. He's new at this. You have to look after him too, you hear?" Elita One kneeled down on the floor next to her and Optimus Prime's massive recharge berth, putting herself at the same head height as her offspring.
Optimus himself; in all his over-muscled, red and blue mech glory; was standing behind Elita with his hands behind his back. He arched an optic ridge in query. "Uh, wait, 'poor Optimus'? Where did that come from? Femme, I assure you, my organisational skills are more than satisfactory for the purpose of looking after our two sparklings."
Elita's head turned to peer at her massive mate. Her expression was very disbelieving and pouty. "Uh huh. Right."
"Femme..." Optimus chuckled, waving one hand dismissively, "our botlings will be in the best hands of the whole base."
Sitting on their aft's on the berth, hands obediently tucked in their laps, the small faces of Sabre and Safire looked up at him. Sabre giggled. Safire looked thoughtful as she chewed on one tiny finger. The big bot was going to look after them? By himself? Was he sure he knew how? She thought the nice smaller bot; her Mom; was pretty good. Sweet, cheerful and competent. The big bot was good for hugs, but he didn't do much else that was too strenuous, all of the hard work was done by the female. Cleaning, feeding, loving, teaching. All that.
"Energon portions are in the cupboard, make sure not to mix Safire's too strong or she brings it up and dribbles it down her chest, and don't give Sabre more than two servings at one time or he gets silly. Play time comes only after recharge time, they cannot play if they are getting cranky and naughty, they need to have time out, and don't forget to call Ratch if you think either of them show signs of getting a system upset, better to catch it before it becomes a full blown drama." Elita ticked off her fingers as she spoke. "Please call Ironhide for help if you need it, he's the most experienced, even if he does grumble."
The femme's instructions and commands were faithfully taken into Optimus Prime's processor. Feeding, check. Play time only after nap time, check. Call Ironhide-the-Aft if Sabre's head falls off, no, wait, better call Ratchet for that, Ironhide would stick the head back on with glue and triumphantly pronounce it 'all better now'. Dump sparklings on Ironhide if they get completely out of control and run for your life while telling Elita you had a world-wide sized emergency to attend to, check.
"Right then," Elita patted each of her baby bots in turn, and planted a loving kiss on each head. She stood up. "I better be going. Chromia is waiting outside. Have a nice time guys." She pulled Optimus down to bend him over to her level and smooched him on the mouthplates, "Bye sweetie, call me if things get too rough. Thanks for this."
Optimus turned to watch her scamper out the door in a flash of shiny red armor (was that a hefty portion of glee her saw in her bouncing steps?) and turned back to his expectant sparklings.
Safire and Sabre both sat there. Staring at him. Awaiting his next move.
"Uh. Ahem. Right then. Er..."
Safire cocked her head at him. Sabre had a blank expression – then he let loose with a loud muffler fluff. He shrieked and laughed, rolling all over the berth in a tangle of clunky arms and legs.
Optimus looked aggrieved, the gears on his helmet whirled and clicked, his posture stiffening, "Sabby.. that's not nice. Apologise to Safire, I know you aimed that in her direction. You're not supposed to do that around femmes. Well, at least femmes who are NOT your mate. Heh."
Getting up on all fours, Sabre shoved his face into the soft material lining the berth and wriggled his aft in the air menacingly.
Optimus sighed, rubbing at his optics, "Sabre, NO. No more."
Safire automatically closed over her mobile noseplate coverings, following it up with both hands over her face, sweet little optics shining at him over her fingers. She was not impressed. Sabre was older but he wasn't better. Numb nut.
Elita had struggled at first in the early stages of their relationship to reconcile her image of Optimus as the 'almighty, all-powerful, God-like Autobot leader' with a mech who occasionally let one off in private and even smirked happily about it. Now she accepted it as normal mech behaviour. God or otherwise.
"You," Optimus reached down and grabbed hold of Sabre's middle with both hands, lifting him up, "are a terror. Don't tell Elita but I think you'll make an excellent mech-wrecker."
Sabre squirmed in his Sire's grip and squeaked. Then fluffed again. Right under Optimus Prime's armpit.
"Oh, good Primus," Optimus expressed his disgust with pinched faceplates, "I wish I knew how to make you behave. Elita does such a good job of it, why can't I?"
The tall brave Commander didn't dare take his young charges to the rec room. The others knew he was in charge of the little terrors, and since Optimus knew he had next to zip control of their behaviour without Elita around, it would be humiliating to try and tackle them in public. Ironhide was the best one to handle this, Bumblebee was good too, Jazz thought he was MADE to be with sparklings, and probably even Prowl could make Sabby and Safire behave with one narrow stare.
But him? Psssht. He couldn't growl at, discipline, or control his sparklings. His CPU refused to help him that way, and his leadership skills were off drinking high-grade somewhere and probably doing a few muffler fluffs of their own.
Still sitting on the recharge berth, Safire removed her hands from her face and sent a rapid flurry of angry clicks and squeals to her brother. She wasn't happy with the smells.
"You are so right, Safire," Prime said seriously, clicking his optic sweepers across his blue orbs. He turned Sabre upside down so he could inspect his aft. Sabre shrieked and laughed. "There has to be something we can shove in there to stop the stench."
In his defence, Sabre took careful note of his position dangling in front his Sire's hips, and let out a chirrup of wonder. That looked interesting. He reached out with both hands, getting his fingers into the spaces on either side of the armor right between Optimus' long legs.
Optimus Prime yelped and jerked his hips backwards, "SABRE! Get your hands out of there! Only femmes go in there!"
He hauled the mechling up so they were face-to-face. Sabre pouted at him. Why are you ruining my fun?
"Young bot, there are some places on other mech's that you DO NOT put your hands on, understand?"
Sabre raspberried him.
While Sabre was riling up his Dad, Safire was getting bored. Watching the big bot and little bot mess around wasn't that interesting. Her gaze landed on the big fluffy thing that her Mom sometimes gave to her when she recharged. It was sitting in the corner of the room next to Sabre's recharge berth. She wanted that! Carefully, she turned herself around and edged over to the end of the berth. Her legs dangled over it precariously and she peeked over her shoulder. Whoops, maybe it was too far down for her to jump? Too late now, she was losing her grip...
Seeing Safire's precarious situation, Optimus put both of Sabre's ankles into one of his large hands and thrust out his other hand to grab at Safire before she fell. "Don't do that! You'll fall!"
Prime's large hand totally dwarfed Safire's teeny aft. He gave a shove with his palm (which he thought was gentle) and ended up pushing the surprised little femme at least two of her own body lengths along the berth, on her front. Her hand got caught between her body and the berth, twisting her hand and wrist sharply the wrong way. Ouch. Cringing, Optimus instantly uprighted Sabre and plopped him on the floor on his feet.
"Whoops, oh no, I didn't mean to-"
Big hands slipped gently around the curled up ball on the berth. He lifted the wailing femling up and held her to his chest, fitting her between the ridges of his split windscreen and trying to shoosh her cries. His spark twisted and fluttered painfully in his chest at her distress.
Safire's optics were closed, her face screwed up. Why had the big bot shoved her around like that?! Now her hand hurt!
Optimus hunched over his upset daughter. His big chest shuddered. "It's okay, it's okay, I wasn't being mean, I'm just, too strong. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Sabre walked over to him and placed his hand on his Sire's knee, patting it. He squeaked an inquiry up at Safire. The femme quieted, drew her hand up to her face, and rubbed at it. She coughed and peaked down at Sabby with sad optics.
"See? Sabre says it's all okay. You're fine, you'll be alright," Optimus' hand stroked up and down her curled back while the other supported her to his chest.
The huge mech cursed himself. Why hadn't he thought quicker that his 'help' should have been of a much smaller size? He had to learn all over again how to handle his strength and movements around little beings. Safire was even smaller than Sabre, and he'd thought Sabby was a tiny bucket of circuits!
"Can I see your hand, little one? Can I look at it? Is it injured?" His optics glowed softly at Safire. Slag it, if she's hurt, I'll get Ironhide to shoot me in the head a few times...
Safire looked up at him from under her optic ridges. Slowly, she lifted her arm and uncurled her fingers for his examination. His head lowered, getting a closer look.
"Hmmm. Seems okay, but perhaps we should get Ratchet to scan it, in case-"
Optimus was interrupted by an angry thump to his foot. Sabre had kicked him. He looked down. The mechling hissed and stalked off to the other side of the room.
"Sabby! No kicking! I've told you before about violence! And Ratchet would be seeing Safire, not you!"
The Autobot Leader blinked in surprise, mouthplates frozen open. Had Sabre just said 'no'? That was his third word! First 'Bee', then 'Lita' and now -
Oh yeah, there it was. Sabre now knew how to use the 'N' word. His shoulders sagged. Elita had been gone for no more than a few Earth minutes and so far he had injured Safire and made her cry, and caused Sabre to use the 'N' word. Elita was going to lurvve him... he'd be lucky if he got any interface for the next century.
A small hand touched his cheekplate. A giggle. He looked at Safire. She had put her hurt finger in her mouth and was smiling at him with amusement. His spark swelled.
"You are so gorgeous, do you know that?" he said gently, returning her smile with a grin of his own. Females had always been beautiful in his optics, and this tiny femme sparkling brought to life by him and Elita – absolute perfection. He shifted her in his arms, bringing her up higher. She was now sitting on the cable hydraulics for his bicep. "You could rule the universe with that smile. Yes, you could. Anything you want – yours. Instantly."
Safire tipped her head to the side. Studying him. His face was so big. Mom's was narrower. More tidy. Not so many moving bits. But this one looked strong. And the blue light from his optics was so kind. She giggled, reaching out a hand shyly and rubbing the end of the plates in the middle of his face; big nose though!
"Yes, I know, I've been told my nose sensor stands out a bit too much, it's too broad. I guess it's taken too many hits to be pretty..." Optimus told her quietly. "There are some very serious things about life that you will get to know when you are much older." His optics swept over some of the more ancient battle scars littering his huge chest and mighty arms - which cradled the young life happily touching him and not knowing what they meant. "Much older..."
Safire didn't respond to his sombre tone. Her optics lit up when the parts of his face moved as he talked to her. She went on touching and exploring his head. He kept himself still, allowing her to explore him. She seemed very interested in the engravings on the side of his helmet near his audios. He spun the circles for her. She shrieked and patted them, amused. He grimaced and hissed when her two hands grabbed at one of his antennae. That was one of his hot spots that usually only Elita ever touched.
"Hey, hey! That's enough little femme, no touching – argh – there!" His knees were going weak. Primus, his body was well-trained to respond to that when it wasn't even Elita doing it! And Safire's smaller fingers could get into more places. Oww, the wiring was sensitive there.
With a squeak and satisfied smirk, Safire sat back on his arm and blinked at him. All done!
"You are so cute," Optimus practically purred, rubbing a hand over Sabre's head. "do you need refuelling yet? Are you hungry?"
Safire's optics brightened. FUEL! Yes, yes! She lifted her arms up and clicked. Feed me!
"Okay, fuel it is..." His steps were firm and sure across the room to the makeshift bench where he and Elita kept the energon facilities. Sabre stopped doing handstands as his Sire brushed past (he had been trying to get Prime's attention by doing really difficult things, but it seemed nothing could take the big bot's attention away from his little femme) and fell over onto his back in a messy heap, scrambling up eagerly to rush and get his own portion of energon.
"Hmmm." Optimus swept his optics over the equipment, seeing the already prepared cups of fuel. Thank you Elita, you are such a good organiser. "One each, I think. Sabby, here's yours." A filled cup was handed down to the bouncing mechling.
Sabre took it into both hands with a squeak and promptly dropped himself down onto his aft, legs splayed in front of him. The sucking noises started instantly. His face was no longer visible, hidden as it was by the bulk of the cup shoved in front of his mouth.
"Hungry mech, eh?" Optimus smiled, looking down.
It always fascinated him that such small amounts of energon kept the little bots going. Compared to his own intake of energon, what they used was laughable. A cup of energon (and low grade, at that) wouldn't be enough to fuel him for more than an Earth hour. Jazz might be able to get away with it (and often had back home, when his duties kept him racing around on permanent hyperactive turbo, and snatching random cups of fuel in a whirlwind of busy-ness was all he allowed himself), but not him.
Safire patted his shoulder politely with one small hand. Disappointed optics stared up at him. Where's mine?
"Sorry Saffy, here's – oh! I think we just found your nickname. Saffy! Do you like it?"
The femme held her hands up beseechingly. Food?
Optimus chuckled, "Okay, okay, here it is. Not too fast now."
He held the cup to her mouthplates and tilted it up. He was surprised by the sudden ferocious suction she produced, the cup was jerked forwards in his hand and only his steady grip stopped it from smashing her in the face. Her pulling action was extraordinarily strong. Now he was worried. Had he let her go too long without fuel? Had she been hungry before and he hadn't noticed? It was his duty to know such things! He scolded himself. Slag head. Bolt brain. Dumb aft.
:bang, rattle, scrape, bang:
"Hey! Sabre! That's not nice!"
The boy bot had a smirk of immense proportions on his faceplates and was using his Sire's leg like an instrument, dragging and hitting his empty cup on Optimus Prime's armor.
"Do you do that to Elita?! I've never really noticed, I'm sure you don't, she'd go ballistic if you did that, there'd be bits of you all over the room. So why do it to me?! Am I not more scary looking than her?"
Sabre clicked, "Bee, Bee!" and held his arms out wide. But you're a big bot, you can take it!
His attention now taken away from his daughter, Optimus' grip on her cup slackened – and the cup was sucked right out of his hand. Safire was not prepared to have him let go, and the cup rebounded against her face with a clang. Horrified at what had happened, Optimus grabbed the cup before it fell to the ground, his scared optics locked on Safire's face.
The femme was stunned for all of a second. Optics blinking.
"Oh no – Safire! I'm sorry! It was Sabre, he was-"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm an idiot, I wasn't-"
"-watching what I was doing, oh no," he tossed the cup onto the bench and hugged her tightly to his chest with both encompassing arms. It was the only comfort he could think of. And didn't all femmes like his chest anyway?
Sabre put his hands over his audios and frowned distastefully. Primus, femmes screamed a lot... bring on nap time.
NEXT: Naptime, playtime and confessing-everything-to-Elita time.