I was going to do it from Prowl's POV but changed my mind. Hehe. My muse is crazy. I'd done a similar scene like this in another story, only it was Ratchet's daughter and there was less crying. Hehe.

Anyways, my muse was feeling generous with this fic. Please enjoy!

Warnings: youngling cuteness


It was a rare quiet day. No explosions rocking the base from the new engineer, Wheeljack. No casualties filling my medical bay from a skirmish with the Decepticons. No dents for scrapes to repair from over enthusiastic mechs sparring with one another. No pranks…so far…to give me a processor ache.

In a word…peaceful.

I relaxed in my chair, basking in the serenity because one never knew when a moment like this would occur again.

Of course the moment was shattered by the hysterical cries of a youngling filling the medical bay. I jumped to my peds and bound out of my office wondering what Bluestreak did this time as only he could get so worked up over the tiniest scrape. However to my utter dismay, I saw that it was not Bluestreak trembling, crying curled up tight in Ironhide's arms but Prowl.

Prowl never cried. Not even when he dislocated one of his doorwings something I knew was extremely painful for young and old Praxian mechs. The mechlet lived up to his name often too. He was quiet, soft spoken, and silent whenever he entered a room. If you weren't looking at the doorway you'd never know he'd entered the room with you! I'd been startled more than once when he spoke softly to announce his presence in my company.

"On the berth," I quickly ordered moving swiftly and activating the berth's medical scanners. "What happened? Is it a system upset, one of his doorwings again?"

"Uh…neither," my friend replied as he carefully sat the little black and white mechlet on the medical berth.

"Then what?" I asked even as my diagnostic pinged telling me the mechlet was functioning at optimum levels.

"I promised 'im you'd be able to fix it," Ironhide sheepishly smiled, soothingly rubbing Prowl's wingjoints something I'd seen my friend do often with both his Praxian charges. It seemed to help them relax. "Go on Prowl, Ratchet can make it all betta."

"Please, Ratchet, Sir. Can you repair him?" Prowl imploringly asked unfolding his arms to reveal why he was crying.

I almost pulled my trusty wrench from subspace to bonk Ironhide on the head with it. Of all things to get me worried about! A fragging…

"Please," Prowl sobbed and hiccupped, doorwings trembling in distress, big teary cobalt optics pleading with me.

My anger quickly dissipated. I had a weakness for younglings in distress. Plus, it was the first time Prowl ever asked me for any kind of help. The little mech was so independent already.

"Very well," I smiled, rubbing his tears from his cheeks. "Put Jass on the berth and I'll see what I can do about reattaching his arm."

"Thank you, Sir."

"No need to thank me. Repairing bots is my job," I said, making him smile.

After a quick scan I could tell the toy was in dire need of some repairs. Normally I'd just say get the youngling a new toy. However, this toy was far too valuable to Prowl's psyche and we couldn't risk damaging his young mind. Also, I doubt there was another toy like it as I recognized the toy manufacturer's trademark on the bottom of the left ped. The toy was commissioned and one of a kind.

"Hmm," I mused more affect. "This may take a little while. Jass needs some upgrades. And perhaps a new paint job?"

Prowl nodded biting his bottom lip component.

"Are the upgrades going hurt, Jass?" the youngling worriedly asked.

"Not at all," I chuckled.

"Don't worry, Prowl. Ratchet's the best medic on Cybertron. He's repaired me lots o' times," Ironhide offered with a warm smile.

Unconvinced, fresh tears welled up in Prowl's optics and he quickly climbed back into Ironhide's loving arms, burying his face against the mech's wide chest armor. I chuckled softly as it never amazed me how a tough wrecker like Ironhide was such a softy when it came to younglings. Even more surprising was how the younglings responded to him.

Optimus loved the mech while growing up. And our two resident younglings adored him as well.

"Would ya like to wait outside?" Ironhide asked.

Prowl shook his head.

"I promise Jass will be a better bot after I'm done," I said gathering the necessary materials. "Now, don't be afraid. I'm going to remove Jass' other appendages so I can strengthen the sockets. That way they won't ever separate from his body again."

I didn't even wait for a response, wanting to get this over and done with as quickly as possible. Prowl's stress levels were high and I didn't want him to be that way for too long. It wasn't good for a youngling his age, barely out of sparklinghood. Of course with each appendage I pulled off I heard Prowl warble and saw his doorwings flutter from anxiety out of the corner of my optics.

"Hmm, maybe I should…just in case," I mused.

"Should what?" Ironhide curiously asked.

Without another thought, I detached the toy's head from its torso so I could reinforce that socket as well. Regrettably, it was too much for little Prowl. I heard the mechlet gasp in shock then a moment later the medical bay walls reverberated with his wailing.

"Primus Ratchet! That's just cruel!" Ironhide chastised, covering Prowl's face with one server, gently rocking the him with his other arm. "Do ya get off makin' the little ones cry?"

"What? NO! For pits sake, Prowl look," I ordered grabbing one of my small surgical tools. In mere moments I'd reinforced the socket and neck joint then reattached the head and gave a solid tug. "See, its better now. He's head won't ever come off if you and Bluestreak decide to play tug o' war with the toy."

Prowl had watched, tears still running down his cheek plates. But as I reattached each appendage his whimpers quieted down. And by the time I was putting a fresh coat of paint on the toy the mechlet was sitting on the berth, optics focused on every move I made.

"Now to give him a quick dry and he's as good as new," I smiled, carefully lifting the cloth the toy was cradled in and placed it under a special heating light I use when doing touch ups after weldings.

I smiled to myself when I heard Prowl's soft peds hurry over to my side. Without hesitation, I lifted the young bot up so he could watch the paint dry.

"In just another klick Jass will be ready for you."

"Thank you, Ratchet," Prowl sighed, all signs of his earlier distress gone as if they'd never taken place.

"See, I told ya, Ratchet could fix your toy," Ironhide smiled, rubbing Prowl's helm affectionately.

"By the way, how'd it break?" I asked.

"I was on the shootin' range with Chromia an' the little ones. Prowl had set the toy down for a few clicks when it was his turn. Then when he went to retrieve it, the arm got stuck. I helped by givin' a good yank on it. I guess I was a little too strong. Ripped the arm right off."

"Shooting range? Ironhide, Blue and Prowl are too young."

"I teach them safety first. I always have even when Optimus was as small as them. Besides, little Blue is quite the shot as is Prowl," Ironhide grinned.

I groaned, covering my optics as all kinds of scenarios of doom crossed my processor.

"It's ok Ratchet, Hide taught us to make sure the safety is on properly," Prowl stated rather proudly.

"I'm afraid to ask what else Hide has taught you two mechlets!" I stated, setting Prowl on his peds. "Honestly, Ironhide, what…"

"Are we interrupting?" a femme's voice sounded.

"Mia, just in time! Ratchet just finished fixing Jass," Ironhide smirked, pleased with the interruption. It was not going to spare either of them from a lecture from me for endangering the little ones.

"Good, Bluestreak was getting worried," the femme said, letting go of Bluestreak's hand so he could join Prowl.

I plucked the toy from under the lamp and handed it to Prowl who promptly hugged it close and launched into an explanation to Bluestreak about what I did to fix Jass.

"Blue was worried…I'm gonna have a spark attack because of you two," I grumbled. "Just what are you teaching these young mechlets?"

Ironhide and Chromia had the look of two younglings caught in the act. But to no one's surprise it was Bluestreak who answered my question as the little mechlet had a panache for speaking his processor often or just plain speaking. The words shut up and be quiet were not in Blue's vocabulary.

"Hide taught us that when his berthroom door is locked that means him and Mia are having alone time and not to be disturbed," Bluestreak added cheerfully, doorwings fluttering excitedly. "But I'm confused because he says alone time is fun time but they don't sound like they're having fun."

"You'll understand when you're older," Ironhide snickered instantly earning a glare from me.

I made a quick mental note to make sure Ironhide and Chromia's next maintenance exams as uncomfortable as possible. In fact both seemed to be sensing my thoughts as they were moving away from my reach.

"I would have hoped you had the decency to have them shut their audio receptors during this 'alone time'. I'd rather not have their young processors corrupted. But it seems I'm far too late," I growled.

"But…if we turn off our audio receptors, how will we know when Hide and Mia are done interfacing?" Prowl innocently asked.

Let it never be said that Ironhide was slow. I've seen differently on the battlefield when he's moved to save our Prime. Only I didn't realize he could be any faster until now as he and Chromia bolted from my medical bay leaving a bewildered Prowl and Bluestreak in their wake.

"You can run but you can't hide!" I shouted as I reached down and took hold of the mechlets' hands. "Come on. Let's see if you can recharge with uncle Optimus tonight."

"Why?" Bluestreak asked.

"Because Hide was bad again," Prowl answered knowingly.