Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews and the arrival time for their sparkling draws close but not quite yet.

Recap: Elita trans scanned a silver car and is stuck in that color and alt mode until after the sparkling is transferred. Ironhide and Optimus got rough housing in the hallway outside of the quarters he and Elita have.

TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TR TRANSFORMERS

Ratchet, former elected politician, middle class family, and direct clan descendant of the thirteen original Quintesson freedom warriors glared at the two mechs sitting sheepishly on medical berths in his med bay. 'I don't know whether to throw wrenches, yell or look mean. Hmm, all three work at this point,' he processed. A silver wrench sailed between them to strike the wall and fall to the growing pile of them on the med bay floor.

Optimus opened his lip plates to speak, the left half of his battle mask missing. A single yellow green armored finger pointed at him and he kept quiet. Ironhide snickered then narrowed his optics as the same finger pointed his direction.

"As Chief Medical Officer," he began. "I have repaired self inflicted injuries, injuries from pranks and outright carelessness on and off the battlefield. But you two wrestling and breaking that outer wall sets a new #$%#^& record!"

"We didn't know Ratchet," Ironhide mumbled, rubbing at the char marks on his arm plates. The black warrior's armor paint had slagged and melted in stripes across his arm and side chest.

"Didn't know that fighting inside our quarters would cause damage? Or acting like sparklings could result in injuries that I have to fix!"

"We didn't know that human construction would have water pipes and electrical wiring in the same wall," Optimus stated. His armor was likewise energy arced and he grimaced, shaking the remaining water out of his arm joint. A crushed, flattened piece of piping fell out to clatter onto the pristine floor.

"Poor design does not excuse poor judgment!" Ratchet raged. "You knew the power systems were set to our standards not earth's! We sat through how many meetings to get military clearance and Wheeljack's attempts to make it stronger without blacking out half the continent?" The yellow green mech glared between the two of them. "Your hitting, correction smashing into that wall burst the pipes as the current triggered, downing the power grid to a third of the base and nearly frying you both!"

"Felt pretty good," Ironhide shrugged.

"Good? Elita is one day away from delivering and has to recharge in the main hangar while emergency repairs are ongoing!"

"You did say we should try it." Optimus said, his regal baritone defiant.

"What? When the $%&$? I don't remember that," Ratchet growled, another wrench slipping into his hand.

"First day arriving on earth, I recall," the Prime stated while rubbing at his torn facemask edge. "We were hiding from Sam's parents while he searched for his grandfather's glasses and you hit the power lines."

"Energy crackling before you crushed the neighbor's greenhouse," Ironhide smirked, gesturing the bot spinning and falling flat.

The medic opened his lip plates to deny it then felt his faceplates heat. Memory cores replayed the incident. "That was almost seven years ago! An accident," he sputtered.

"There are no accidents," his own voice replayed from both of them before they broke off laughing.

"Times telling the twins that, over three hundred," Optimus stated in his normal voice, his blue optics twinkling.

"Repair us Ratchet and let us get back to our femmes already," the black warrior mech stated. "Or let the femmes help. Elita needs him."

Ratchet softened, wanting to keep her happy and away from his med bay until the scheduled delivery time. "I promise not to tell them how you got charred and you never mention that event again."

Two hours later, Optimus rolled into the main hangar, impressed at the speed and quality of the building repairs by his team. 'Wish they showed that much enthusiasm for the tasks I assign them,' he processed, transforming into his bi pedal mode. 'Every mech and half the humans volunteered for an all night shift. Our quarters will be ready by sunrise then by sunset I will be a parental mech.' The smile on his faceplates was as wide as they could form.

"Cybertron control to Prime. You there?" Elita waved. The silver colored femme reclined against the wall, her feet tucked to the side as she waited. Most of her external armor was back in place, a few pieces missing around her chest plates and shoulders.

"Still running hot?" he knelt by her, taking her armored hand into both of his. His optics scanned her intently, the readings from the sparkling sensor running continually in the corner of his optical display.

"Better in the last breem or so. The walk between buildings seemed to readjust my sensors. My protoform itches with the increased energy," she shifted her shoulder plates.

"Metal does not itch. Sensors can relay data only," he reminded gently.

"Human term and it fits. As does smexi, which is you without your battle mask," she said.

"Smexi?"

"Sexy is for humans and we are mechs so smexi," she winked an optic, leaning forward to nuzzle his armor, playfully nipping at his neck cables. He vented, tightening his grasp on her before activating their internal comm.

::Elita! This is a little public:: Optimus

::Then order the humans out:: Elita

::And you are in no condition for our…activities:: Optimus

::Our activities created this sparkling:: Elita reminded with a smirk on her face but leaned back against the wall. "Help me up please." He supported her grip, helping her rise to her feet pads. She vented suddenly, pulling a hand free to press against her chest plates. He frowned, watching readings flash from her implanted sensor.

::Relax both of you. The sparkling is moving. I am monitoring the readings too:: Ratchet abruptly commed them both. ::I am en route to double check and yes this is normal:: Chief Medical Officer Ratchet.

Elita closed her optics, focusing on the movement around her spark. Optimus placed a hand over her chest plates feeling nothing of the energy essence but watching the readings intently. "Active little sparkling," he commented.

"I bet you were even worse for your parental femme," Elita commented, opening her optics. "Think we should allow wheels in the first shell?"

"I planned on it," Ratchet commented, striding in. "Payback for all the grief I've had to endure from you two over the ages." Both protested as he held the scanner over her chassis. "Your systems are reacting to the sparkling more than your core signals. Easy," he braced her on the right as Optimus held her on the left with her twitching movement. "The sparkling is moving higher around your spark and crossed your lay lines. Triggered your motion sensors on that side. Be grateful."

"For?" she asked, venting rapidly from the ghosting sensations.

"Grateful you only have a few joors and you will be holding your sparkling, listening to it squeal to be fed and tanks drained," he said. "If you were carrying the protoform shell you would be carrying for orns, leeching metals and alloys off your core systems, your protoform would extend and the release could rip your armor apart."

She swayed on her feet pads, holding tightly to Optimus.

"Ratchet," he growled.

"Sorry Prime, Elita. The energy essence will be transferred tomorrow into the shell Wheeljack and I made. Any of us can do it. There is no danger to you or the sparkling," the medic reassured. "I can tell you its gender."

"No!" they both stated firmly.

"Vorns of scientific discoveries and advanced research and you want to be surprised, how primitive," he grumbled, replacing the scanner in his leg hatch before walking away.

To be continued...