Title: What You're Not Doing

Universe: G1 cartoon.

Rated: NC-17 for detailed physical intimacy between mechanical beings, 'plug-n-play' discussed. This won the July 2007 anniversary challenge at MechaErotica, inspired by January's WTF prompt.

Pairing: Ironhide/a trainee.

Author's Note: Recognizable Characters/Names belong to corporations; I'm just playing with them. 9093 words.

---

Ironhide blamed Ratchet for the young mech's crush: if the CMO hadn't delegated Ironhide's periodic visits to the youngster, he would never have even looked twice at Ironhide, let alone developed such an unhealthy fascination with his old self.

"It ain't right, Optimus," he drawled slowly, shaking his head and studying the ground as he walked the path from the Ark around the volcano with his friend one evening. "Whenever he's not on duty with Ratchet or trainin' with his brothers, he's stalkin' me. This is the first time in a month he hasn't stayed in the office all afternoon!"

Prime laughed - laughed! - at him as he fretted, obviously finding the whole thing entertaining. "Old friend, you are amazing!" he said as he clapped the red 'Bot on the back, trying to encourage him. "He's one of the all-around kindest, gentlest sparks in the Ark-"

Ironhide interjected: "One o' the youngest!"

Prime ignored him. "-and he's taken a liking to you. You, Ironhide. Not one of the Lamborghinis, who seem to garner nearly everyone's favor at some point or other; not one of his brothers, who would seem to be the most obvious mechs for each other; not any of the younger set, which includes the one mech he spends the most time with along with Ratchet. You. I'm proud of you for worrying about taking advantage of him, but this has gone on so long that I think you need to let him take advantage of you. Do you not like him?"

"What? No, Optimus, o' course I like him... He's great! If I were a few thousand cycles younger, or he 're a few thousand cycles older - Optimus, he doesn't even have a full stellar in his armor yet!"

They had passed the curve of the mountain and were out of sight of the Ark completely now. Omega Supreme hailed them, they waved and kept walking. Optimus had brought Ironhide outside at the end of the day, ostensibly to 'get some fresh air', something he'd decided was as good for their morale as humans'. Ironhide disagreed, but not stridently. It was nice to have time with his friend as a friend, not his bodyguard or chief administrator.

Prime stopped. Ironhide stopped beside him, looking around suspiciously. Optimus looked down at him, still openly amused at his discomfort. "Do you know what the average life span of the indigenous people here is, Ironhide?"

Ironhide shook his head - the demographical data on humans was not something he cared to keep in his actual memory, opting to keep things he cared about that would otherwise be lost instead. And he did not want another upgrade from Ratchet - he felt like he was at his limit as it was, keeping track of how things were currently partitioned!

"They are lucky to see 100 of their basic solar cycles. Think about that, now."

"He's not even that old, Optimus, and I've seen-" Ironhide began.

"You are missing my point," Prime cut him off firmly. Serious now, he turned to look squarely down at his friend. "Your processor can be as hard to get through as your skin! Their lives are so short, and they know it, and they have a saying about it. It's not creative or witty, but it has a point: life's too short. Ironhide," he sighed, "how long has it been since you ..." he trailed off, uncertain how to broach this topic with his friend. It was not generally a matter mechs discussed.

"Ah, fraggit, Optimus!" Ironhide looked away, out towards the sunset. "I know what yer going for. And it's been a long time. Since Chromia." He paused. "But that's not important! What we had back then, it was special, it was ..." he cycled air through his systems, thinking, "It was enough for a lifetime, Optimus."

"It's good for you that you can say that. But what I want you to think about is that we are at war, Ironhide, we have been for as long as I've been aware and until something drastic changes, we will continue to be." Prime looked away as Ironhide turned back to look at him, curiously. Optics far away, he finished his argument: "What I'm saying is, don't you think he deserves to have a chance to say that, too? He's not looking at anyone else because he's drawn to you. Not someone you think is better for him. You. Do you think your age makes you less worthy of that affection, that trust, that honor? When we are in circumstances that make it unlikely that any of us will survive even one human lifetime longer?" He looked back down at Ironhide. "Life's too short to let minor details like 'model year' keep you from sharing your time."

Ironhide smiled at his use of that term. It was something the younger 'Bots had picked up and Optimus particularly liked it, saying he and the other senior officers were 'classics' while some in their ranks were 'late models'. "I know what yer tryin' ta say. I also knew his creator's creator. B'fore he decided to create a 'Bot." He shook his head again, at a loss for words. "Well." It was a one-word statement.

"I want you to stop agonizing over being too old for him. You could lie and tell him you are absolutely not interested, or you can do something about it. Watching him watch you is driving Ratchet to distraction." At Ironhide's sharp look, Prime's optics twinkled above the mask. "You didn't know that, did you? Ratchet has come to me twice now, wanting to know what you're doing with his trainee."

Indignant, Ironhide protested his innocence: "I'm not doin' a thing with his trainee!"

"That's what I told him." Drawing it out, Prime enjoyed teasing his friend. "Do you know what his response was?" and he waited for Ironhide to answer.

Patience, Ironhide spelled the word out in his processor, first in Cybertronian, including 5 extinct regional dialects, then Mandarin, Cantonese, Hindi, English and finally each of those in binary before giving Prime what he obviously wanted. "No, Optimus, I don't know what Ratchet said ta that."

Satisfied, Prime enlightened him, sounding as righteously annoying as only a Prime could, "He said that must be the problem then, what you're not doing with him."

-X-X-X-

A few days later, Ironhide slipped into medical when he thought his admirer was out drilling with his brothers. Ratchet looked up from where he was supervising First Aid's analysis of something Ironhide did not recognize. Ratchet smiled, "'Hide, you're early. Your appointment's not until tomorrow."

"I know, Ratchet, I just need ta talk ta you," he answered, looking pointedly toward Ratchet's office in the back. "Mornin', 'Aid," he said neutrally, acknowledging the Protectobot.

First Aid returned the greeting with a smile. Ratchet told his apprentice to keep at it and left him, leading Ironhide into the office. "So, what brings you to my repair bay today?" he asked as he walked.

Ironhide thought he detected the barest hint of laughter in that question, but ignored it, walking past Ratchet into the smaller room. He would have sworn he felt the youngster's optics on him all the way. Ratchet closed the door and leaned on the latch. As he turned to look at the ambulance, Ironhide realized he was trapped, but decided he didn't mind: if Ratchet had something to say to him, he wanted to know it, not have him going behind his back to Optimus like that anymore. He said so: "If ya have somethin' ta say ta me, Ratch', say it ta me, not ta Prime."

Ratchet laughed outright, still holding the door. He covered his forehead with his other hand in a gesture Sparkplug used. Smiling like a ▒Con at a Minibot, he trailed his hand down to his chin. "You would not've listened to me before Optimus talked to you, now, would you? But here you are now, in my office. Are you ready to listen to what I have to say?"

Ironhide crossed his arms over his chest and dropped his chin, looking solemnly at the medic. "I'm listenin'."

"Damn right. D' you have any idea what you're doing to the sparkling? Any concept at all, 'Hide?" At Ironhide's blank look, he continued. "Did you even realize he was crushin' on you before I put Optimus up to talking to you? Did you?"

Ironhide nodded, the only sound he made was his servos whining.

"But here's the real problem, buddy: I don't think it's a crush any more. You've been letting him feel like he's getting to know you, sitting with him in the common room when you go down for energon, allowing him to hang out around your office when he's off duty, giving him just enough attention that he feels wanted but not so much that he feels like he's really getting closer to you." There was definitely an accusing tone creeping into the tirade, it wasn't just teasing or passing along information. "You are the only 'Bot he talks about. Fraggit! You're the only thing he talks about when he's not directly talking about work." Ratchet dropped both hands to his sides and paced past Ironhide into his office. "He's heard every story I'm willing to tell about you at least three times by now - he asks for them by title sometimes. Titles he gave them." He reached the back of the room and turned, mimicking Ironhide's pose with his arms across his windshield and his chin tilted down. "We were doing inventory a few days ago and I was worried about him because he was too quiet, like somethin' was botherin' him. It had been brewing for days. I got to talkin' about Cybertron, thinking that always draws out the youngsters. Sure enough, he found a question: he asked if Optimus was Prime back then. When I said yes and that it wasn't all that long ago for us, he started askin' me more questions. I thought, 'Thank Primus he's gettin' over 'Hide finally!', but I was wrong. He was curious about Optimus because he had worked out for himself that you and Optimus were together. You know how he is - he doesn't have secrets - he finally out and asked me, when the other one was out of range."

Ratchet stopped. Ironhide waited, knowing the story wasn't over.

Someone knocked on the door. "What?" Ratchet barked. The door opened just enough for a red-crested head to peek around it at Ratchet. Swoop didn't see Ironhide; he tried to fade into the shelving behind him, hoping the door blocked Swoop's view just enough in the cluttered room. "No, Swoop, I'll be out in a bit," Ratchet dismissed his student.

The Dinobot noticed Ironhide and his smile broadened. "Hi!" he chirped, optics twinkling. Then he ducked his head shyly and slipped behind the door, closing it again.

Silence returned. When Ratchet didn't get back to his tirade, Ironhide decided to offer intel he might not have. "That explains why he was scarce for a day. He seemed sad when he sat down in the waiting area one afternoon with his sketchpad, and just got more gloomy when I asked him what was wrong. He said he didn't want ta bother me. He was drawin' a picture of a semi on the highway and when I told him it was pretty good, he looked at me funny and left. Said he was late. I didn't think too much of it, really - he'd been moody for a week before that, but just as friendly and ..." He noticed Ratchet's expression had changed. "What?"

Ratchet's optic ridge twitched. He waved one hand encouragingly, "Nothing. Go on."

Ironhide was suspicious but couldn't imagine he was digging himself a hole. He straightened up a little and raised his chin slightly. "As I was sayin', he left sorta abruptly that day and I was kinda relieved 'cause him payin' me all that attention can't be healthy for 'im. But he came back the next day and finished it, happy again," here, Ironhide smiled but didn't realize it, " 'specially when I said it looked just like Prime and made Optimus take a break to look at it. Optimus made over it and asked if he could have it - youngster just about glowed..." Ironhide's face fairly snapped back to a dour expression. "What?!? Why're you lookin' at me like that, Ratch'?"

Ratchet did his best to blank his expression. "Me? I'm not looking at you like anything, 'Hide. D'you know why he was happier the next day?" Ironhide was grateful that Ratchet didn't force answers to rhetorical questions. "The same reason he didn't try to deny that he was drawing a picture that turned out to look like Optimus. He'd been jealous of Prime - that you spend so much time with him and obviously have a very special relationship with him - and I made him actually ask me if you were 'waxing' each other. Apparently that's the latest word for it around here, 'waxing'. I told him it was none of my business, and he looked hurt, then I told him that no, you and Optimus have just been friends for a very long time. And I made him tell me why he wanted to know. I wanted to find out what he thought he was doing." Ratchet paused, assessing Ironhide's reactions.

Ironhide thought his expression was dour. Ratchet found it expectant. Smirking, he chose his words to try to shock his friend. "He said he didn't care if the others were right and you are too ancient to remember what overload is, let alone survive one," he enjoyed the mixture of amusement and offense on his friend's face, "he'll cherish anything you're willing to share with him."

-X-X-X-

A few hours later, Ironhide told Prime about his visit to medical. "An' I have no idea how I got outta there without seein' 'im. I guess Ratchet had pity on me after I admitted he's important ta me and ran a block. None of 'em were in the main area when I walked out."

In Prime's office with the door closed, they could still hear the arrival of their artist. Softly, Optimus said, "Your friend's here. He's probably worried about you since you're not at your desk." Even more quietly, he continued, "Which way are you going to go?"

As quietly as Prime spoke, Ironhide replied, "Either way, I'm bound for the Pit! If I go with what I want, I'm takin' advantage; if I don't, I crush his spark."

Prime nodded. After that little speech, he felt he knew what his old friend would do. He stood up, speaking at his normal volume, that both of them knew carried easily through the door. "I think I'll close shop early today," he said, registering Ironhide's shocked expression as the van joined him in moving toward the door. "Why don't you do the same? It'll all be here tomorrow." Prime triggered the door, which slid aside, and he greeted the young 'Bot. "Good afternoon!" He gave Ironhide a little shove forward.

"Aakh! Afternoon, Prime," Swoop replied, smiling as he scrambled to his feet from where he'd settled in his usual chair to draw. "Hi, Ironhide."

Ironhide was suddenly uncertain. Prime shoved him again. "Er, yeah, good afternoon, Swoop," he stepped cautiously into his own office from Prime's. Prime was right behind him; he knew if he stopped again, he'd get pushed. "How 're you?"

Swoop tilted his head to one side. "Me Swoop well, thank you. This good day. How are you, Ironhide?"

"Well, thank ya," Ironhide returned the pleasantry, heading for his desk and the stack of datapads on it.

Prime would have none of that, though. He closed the door to his office and directed his attention to Swoop. "Swoop, I'm taking the rest of the day off, and Ironhide is, too, despite himself." Swoop looked curiously from the unreadable Autobot commander to Ironhide and back. "See to it that he gets away from his work for a while."

"Aye, Prime," Swoop agreed with a smile, watching Prime walk away. When his footsteps rounded a bend in the hall, the Dinobot turned back to his favorite 'Bot. "What that all about, Ironhide?"

Feeling railroaded but excited and nervous as a sparkling, Ironhide hedged. "Prime thinks we don't spend enough time outside, Swoop." He moved away from his desk which took him closer to both Swoop and the door. Suddenly, he realized he'd already decided. He held out one hand to the young mech. "Would you walk with me a while? I don't know where I'm goin', or how long I'll be at it, but it sure would be nice ta have you with me."

Swoop subspaced his art supplies and took Ironhide's hand gently in both of his much larger ones. As if he were making a vow, he said, "Me Swoop go with you Ironhide anywhere, as long as you Ironhide will have me Swoop."

Ironhide looked up into the blue optics and didn't think about the day Wheeljack powered them up for the first time. He didn't think about how similar they were to Chromia's, didn't think about how decrepit he might look to them one day. He thought only that there was affection radiating from them, and that he might never want to stop looking up into them.

The console on his desk chirped for attention. Swoop looked toward the sound, breaking the spell for Ironhide. Prime left a voice message: "Ironhide, if you're still there, leave. I'm heading back to make sure you're gone. Prime out."

"Oooh, me Swoop in trouble if you Ironhide still here when him Prime come back." Keeping hold of the red mech's hand - now that he had permission to touch Ironhide in other than a professional way, he wasn't about to let go! - Swoop started for the door.

Ironhide went with him, realizing he'd just lost the helm. Not sure what the Dino had in mind, Ironhide tried to keep the bigger mech's pace. Servos whined and one of his knees creaked. Swoop slowed a bit. "It's fine, Swoop, I'll keep up."

Swoop shook his crested head. "That problem: you Ironhide determined to keep up with others when others should adjust to you Ironhide. You Ironhide have earned it."

The old guard chuckled. "I don't know 'bout that," he demurred, feeling oddly flattered.

Swoop made what had to be his version of a dismissive sound. "Me Swoop know. You Ironhide fight Decepticons long time, make possible that 'Bots like us Dinobots got sparked." They hit the entrance to the Ark without seeing another mech.

Ironhide stopped abruptly, suddenly feeling his age and afraid Swoop felt some obligation to him. "You don't owe me a thing, Swoop! If that's what this is about, I have no business spendin' time with you at all!" He tried to extricate his hand from Swoop's.

Swoop stopped and looked down at him earnestly but did not let him go. "Me Swoop make you Ironhide understand! All Autobots owe each other. A lot. No doubt. Fight to keep each other alive. Fight to keep each other free. Fight for Autobots who've gone before, fight for 'Bots who haven't been sparked yet. 'Late models' owe 'classics' more." Unexpectedly, he knelt beside Ironhide so he could look up at him. "That not what this," he punctuated his meaning by drawing the now cooperative dark gray hand to his chestplate, over his spark chamber, "is about." He reached out his other hand and pulled the smaller 'Bot close, up to the near side of his chest so that Ironhide was between the yellow base of his Pteronadon top-knot and his shoulder. He let go of the hand over his spark-chamber and reached up to touch the side of the red helmet. Studying Ironhide's faceplates, he looked like he had more to say. Instead, he slowly drew Ironhide's head down toward his own, and off-lined his optics as he tentatively brushed their lip components together.

I am goin' to the Pit fer this! lingered longest of all the thoughts in his CPU as, optics off, Ironhide let Swoop kiss him. It was chaste at first, a worshipper at an idol, but as he slid his arm further around 'Hide, Swoop turned his head slightly and parted his lips, tentatively brushing his glossa over their lips. Ironhide responded, wrapping one arm across the front of the Dinobot's chest and caressing his crest with the other hand. For the first time since reawakening, his engine purred for something other than a road trip.

A second engine sounded in his audios. Not associating the sound with Swoop, Ironhide broke the kiss and looked around. Jazz pulled up and transformed, covered in dust. Ironhide wished Primus would just take his spark and be done with it.

"Oh no!" Jazz laughed with a conspiratorial air, "Don't stop on my account! I saw nothin', I know nothin', I'm just headin' for the wash racks!" He passed behind Ironhide on his way to the entrance. Pitched to make it clear it was just for Ironhide's hearing, he added, "You go, 'Hide! It's about fraggin' time you took what he's been offerin'!" Then he was gone and they were alone again.

Swoop laughed and carefully rested his head against Ironhide's shoulder, crest pointed away from him.

"Does everyone know?"

"Damn near," Swoop confirmed, using Ratchet's phrase and tone. "Will, if we two don't move away from main entrance."

Ironhide gently released Swoop and backed a step from him, reaching for the light gray hand still touching his helm. As Swoop stood back up, Ironhide asked him, "Have we been courtin' all this time?"

Swoop laughed. "We two dance around each other. Me Swoop move closer, you Ironhide move farther away, but not really. Is that 'courting'?"

They walked slowly away from the Ark, just talking. Swoop had no intention of letting go of Ironhide's hand. True to his warning, Ironhide had no clear idea of where they were going, just 'away from the Ark'. They watched the sunset in companionable silence and walked back a little closer to each other.

-X-X-X-

The evening walk immediately became part of the ritual, a natural follower of Swoop's afternoon in Ironhide's office. It allowed Ironhide to carefully limit their contact to a few of those intense kisses of Swoop's and some lingering hugs watching the sun set and counting stars. The first stormy night, they decided to go to the common room instead. Both were disappointed in the lack of privacy, but neither said so. One of the Jurassic Park movies was playing; the other Dinobots were among the mechs watching it.

Ironhide tried not to take it as a bad omen at first glance. Swoop had told him that Grimlock absolutely did not like the idea of any of the Dinobots getting closely attached to another Autobot. Sludge quietly disagreed with Grimlock, happy that Swoop was happy in Ironhide's company. Slag and Snarl did not notice or care.

Beachcomber and First Aid were playing one of the simpler card games - War, maybe - and it looked like First Aid was losing as Ironhide and Swoop moseyed into the room. He looked up and grinned. "Heya, Swoop!" Then with a nod, "Ironhide. You two interested in a game? Ironhide and 'Comber versus me and Swoop?" He had an eager look. Spike had found them a novelty deck of human playing cards that was nearly appropriately Autobot-sized; he recruited Bumblebee and then taught the few who cared to learn every card game he knew. Ironhide found he enjoyed playing Euchre, as long as Prowl was not in the game. Even as his partner, Prowl was just annoying: he could deduce nearly everything everyone else held about halfway into each hand.

Beachcomber chuckled. Swoop squawked agreeably. Ironhide took in his young friend's grin and could only agree: anything that made Swoop happy was fine. He resolved not to be worried that Grimlock seemed to watch them. Beachcomber moved over, scooping up the rest of the cards from First Aid, and they settled down to play.

It was 7-4 when the tyrannosaurus in the movie was killed by the super-dinosaur. Grimlock roared along with him, sounding particularly dangerous.

All eyes on him, he stood up. The non-Dinobots watching the movie shrank back in their seats a little. "Not even other dinosaurs respect T-rex!" he bellowed. Slag snickered. Everyone else was quiet. Humans in the movie went on about their business. Arms crossed stiffly, Grimlock stalked over to the card-players' table and stood over Beachcomber and First Aid. He glowered down at Swoop. "Me Grimlock accept you Swoop want to be medic like him Ratchet. Good for Dinobots, have own mechanic someday. Help us Dinobots be independent." Optics flashing angrily, he leveled a finger at Swoop, nearly taking First Aid's head off, he moved his arm so violently. "Me Grimlock tell you Swoop not to seek out him Ironhide. Order. No good for discipline. Spend too much time with Autobots, away from Dinobots." He refolded his arms and finished his tirade. "You Swoop want to spend time with Autobots, be like Autobots. Fine. No longer welcome with us Dinobots; you Swoop Dinobot no more." Turning, he said, "Dinobots, come with me Grimlock!" and turned on his massive heel and stomped out.

Confused expressions on their faces, Sludge and Slag got up to follow him. Snarl sat tight. Sludge paused to look at Snarl. "Me Snarl follow order after movie over," and turned back to the screen.

Slag was already out the door, Sludge started to follow him, then paused again to look to Swoop. "You Swoop still look like Dinobot. What did him Grimlock mean?"

The room was quiet except for the TV. First Aid laughed nervously and tried to smooth things over, "Grimlock's just mad. Sounds like he thinks no one cares, no one listens to him. Hot Spot has days like that sometimes. He's right, when he says stupid things. He's never tried to throw one of us out, though..." He trailed off, realizing he wasn't really helping.

Snarl made a derisive sound, true to his name. He turned off the TV and stalked over to Sludge. "We three go keep him Grimlock from getting all Dinobots in trouble again." Sludge nodded; Snarl continued on his way out.

Sludge turned back to Swoop who seemed to have taken Snarl's statement to include him and started to stand. Sludge scowled and shook his head, "No. Me Sludge sure him Snarl not count you Swoop. You Swoop find someplace else to be. Me Sludge find you Swoop when this blow over." Swoop nodded his crested head and Sludge followed their brothers, presumably to do whatever was needed to placate Grimlock.

Swoop slouched in his seat. Someone turned the TV back on. Noise returned to its normal level.

The game resumed but Swoop was distracted. Ironhide and Beachcomber finished the younger pair off, 10-4. Beachcomber and First Aid made some excuse and wandered off. Ironhide glanced around the room to verify no one was really paying them any mind. He set his hand on the back of Swoop's reassuringly. "Let me fetch us some energon." As he stood up to follow through, Swoop looked up at him.

The Dinobot turned his hand quickly and caught Ironhide in a firm grip. With an air of desperation, he said quietly, "You Ironhide not leave me Swoop, too?"

Returning the grip and patting the blue shoulder with his other hand, he shook his head. "No, Swoop. Let's get some fuel and we'll figure out where you can stay." Conscious of the possible listeners, he didn't offer more right then. Ironhide specifically filled cubes with only the sustenance-grade energon: there was something he wanted to say and he needed to be certain Swoop's answer was sober. He just couldn't find a way to make the offer he knew should be made. They sat in silence, pretending interest in the movie. It ended and the few who'd truly stayed to watch it left. They were alone in the large room. Finally, he blurted out what he was thinking: "Swoop, there's plenty o' room in my quarters. If you want, you can have the berth and I'll recharge on the floor. I'd enjoy havin' you around?" It came out as a question.

Swoop looked at him, gloomy expression changing to something Ironhide couldn't read. "Not have to let me Swoop stay with you Ironhide."

Puzzled, Ironhide again reached for Swoop's large hand. He put on what he hoped was his most earnest expression. "No, but I'd like for you to." When Swoop's expression didn't change, he continued. "Nothin' has to happen b'tween us or anythin'. Yer welcome ta stay as long as ya want." Now uncertain himself, he started to ramble a bit, "Ah-I can stay in m' office if that's -" but he didn't finish the sentence, distracted by Swoop's sudden coy smile.

The Dinobot looked away, then back at him, "Lead way."

-X-X-X-

In Ironhide's room, Swoop stopped just inside the doors to look around. Ironhide thought he could read Swoop's expression again; it reminded him to be nervous. He busied himself tidying up the tools and pieces of damaged weapons he'd left laying around. When Swoop continued to stand still, he felt compelled to fill the silence. "I, ah, told ya about my hobby, right? I'm rebuildin' this rifle for Optimus."

Swoop smiled that coy smile again - not that Ironhide could see it, he was distracting himself from the Dinobot's presence, putting things away on a shelf - and walked slowly to where Ironhide stood. "Me Swoop not imagining this; this room belong to you Ironhide. You Ironhide invited me Swoop, invited to stay," Swoop hugged him from behind, hands draped down over his windshield. The ridge of Ironhide's helmet just touched the yellow protrusion at the centerline of Swoop's chest. Ironhide's engine purred softly. Swoop made an appreciative sound. "When him Grimlock get over being mad, me Swoop have to thank him Grimlock for this."

Ironhide reached for both of the light gray hands slowly tracing the seal of his windshield. Cycling air carefully, he asked, "Have you ever... Have you ever 'waxed' another before?" hoping he was using the younger mechs' word correctly.

Confidingly, Swoop answered, "Just kiss. Play a little. Realized wanted you Ironhide and stopped playing with special friend." He paused and held more tightly to the boxy mech, "Have not reached overload in this lifetime."

Ironhide's engine revved just a little faster. He almost asked about the 'special friend' but decided Swoop would tell him if he wanted to. "I've never ... waxed ... another mech, or a 'Bot bigger than me before," Ironhide mused. He patted the light hands on his chest then turned slowly around to look up at Swoop. "I haven't ... spent that kind of time with anyone in ... your lifetime, at least."

Swoop knelt slowly and drew the red fighter to him as he had on their first evening outing. Ironhide fondly touched the ridge of Swoop's Pteronadon beak that forced them to not meet centerline to centerline. "Feels good," Swoop said quietly. Swoop's hands wandered. On impulse, Ironhide pressed more tightly to the Pteronadon and tentatively touched the edge of his wing. Swoop shivered and his optics flickered. Head tilted just so, lips parted, he looked both more innocent and more inviting. He trembled as Ironhide increased the pressure on his chest and his wing, gently stroking both and watching the young 'Bot's face. "Ooooh," he breathed.

"I am goin' to the Pit fer this," Ironhide said aloud, then leaned forward to claim those smooth metal lips with his own.

Sometime later, they lay down on the floor because it was easier than staying where they were or moving to the berth. Ironhide carefully mapped out the large colorful body with his hands and his mouth, noting every sensitive seam and ticklish plate. Swoop nearly surprised him into overcharge, but Ironhide stalwartly refrained, knowing that one time in the encounter would be his limit, and he preferred to find Swoop's first. If anyone's goin' without tonight, it's me, he resolved, as young as he is, he'll probably need four to even make him tired!

Swoop's first overload came up on him slowly. Ironhide was kissing his face softly and stroking his crest with one hand while Swoop explored the van's hood. Then Swoop lost track of everything for a moment when Ironhide's other hand spanned a group of wires inside a transformation seam in his beak. Electricity crackled through those lines, out into his chest, all through his plating. His field did things he didn't understand completely and he cried out, arching against the smaller 'Bot. He thrashed a little in pleasure-distress-want. "'Hide! Need...!" but he didn't know what it was he felt he needed so badly. Ironhide tucked down closer to his neck and ... nipped him ... as he repeated the stimulation of the lines in his chest. Waves of energy washed through him as the connection was made over and over. "Ooooooh!" he exclaimed as every one of his systems hit alarm levels and he reached overcharge for the first time.

Ironhide soothed the spot on Swoop's neck with delicate kisses and extricated his hand. He cycled his cooling system as fast as he could without increasing the sound of it. Primus let me hold out for him! passed his CPU. He stood up slowly and dimmed the lights, then lay back down with Swoop on the floor.

Swoop wasn't out for long. He shuddered as he regained awareness. When he saw Ironhide looking at him, he almost cried out. "That was ... Not dreaming ... You Ironhide did ..."

He looked so sweet, so grateful, so needy in that moment when he couldn't finish a sentence, Ironhide felt compelled to reassure him. "Sshh," he whispered, leaning over Swoop to kiss him. Mouths moving together, Ironhide brought his knees up so he was crouching beside Swoop on the deckplates.

Again Swoop lost track of what Ironhide was doing - whatever it was it felt good, starting from where his wing attached to his torso. Ironhide's engine revved and Swoop arched against him, trying to get more of their skin in contact so he could feel that delicious vibration more completely. His hands on 'Hide's waist just wasn't enough contact.

Abruptly, Ironhide left off kissing him and held very still, forehead resting against Swoop's cheek. "Give me a moment, darlin'," he breathed, "Ah-I'm not ready for this to be over yet."

Not really understanding, Swoop made a small sound of protest and moved his hands curiously along the seams of Ironhide's hips.

"Sshh, darlin', lie still a spell. Let this ol' 'Bot regroup 'fore you send him off-line."

Confused, Swoop complied but asked what he meant: "But, overload good? Send 'Hide off-line like 'Hide send Swoop off-line?"

Ironhide chuckled softly and sat up a little so he could make optic contact with Swoop. "Yes, it is good but I'm not gonna recover anythin' like as fast as you. When I go off-line, I'll need to recharge completely. I figure you'll need a few more rounds 'fore you're able to feel satisfied with this experience." He paused to cycle more air and purposely tone down his engine. "And I want you to be glad you chose me for your first time."

"But 'Hide! Me Swoop already glad! That not fair," Swoop traced the seams on the gray hips, "not fair for you 'Hide to wait for one while giving me Swoop many."

Ironhide moaned as Swoop found his interface port. Swoop reached up and gently maneuvered Ironhide's head so they could kiss again. Whatever he was going to say in response to Swoop's protest was forgotten. His resolve faltered and the cover of his interface port slid aside. Swoop was in control of the encounter now. He shuddered and stroked the wing under his fingertips. Distantly, he heard the faint sound of Swoop's interface coverplate opening. As he processed the sound, he stiffened in surprise.

Swoop noticed. "You Ironhide not want? Me Swoop can share energy this way, right?" he sounded so innocent as he offered the second most intimate act among mechs.

"Yes, darlin', we can share energy that way, and I would love to feel you plug inta me, but... Swoop, compared to that, what we've been doin' is ... like that first kiss you gave yer special friend." He held very still. "We don't have to do that."

Swoop slowly sat up, not letting go of him. Somehow, he came to be sitting up in front of the red mech, legs loosely surrounding him, torso turned so that Ironhide could lean against the center bulge of his chest. Swoop caressed his interface port, then tentatively drew 'Hide's hands to his own waist. Hesitantly, he said, "Touch me Swoop. Want... Plug in-into you 'Hide."

Shaking, Ironhide could only oblige him, gently tracing the orifice with the pads of his fingers. Tentatively his fingers passed the plane of Swoop's plating and stroked the cable inside. Fondling it cautiously, he pulled it slowly out of the housing. Swoop stopped moving. Ironhide held very still and looked up into his face, "Should I stop?"

"No!" Swoop exclaimed in his birdlike way. Ironhide winced at the sound. Less piercingly, he said, "Please don't stop. Want to share everything!"

When Ironhide didn't resume movement right away, Swoop decided to help him. He wrapped one large hand around Ironhide's smaller one that held his interface cable so gently and guided it to Ironhide's interface port. Unsure of exactly how to line them up, he paused. Ironhide's processor unstuck and he took over the last few millimeters. Optic contact never wavering, he said, "I want to share everythin', too, darlin'," then made the connection.

-X-X-X-

It was still early enough when they returned to conscious function that no one was looking for either of them yet. Ratchet was already working when they got to the repair bay. He took one look at them and said, "Fraggit, Ironhide! Wha-"

Swoop cut Ratchet off, which shocked him into silence briefly. "Me Swoop made second connection. Couldn't stop feedback; didn't stop when broke connections."

Ratchet glowered and turned back to Ironhide. "Fraggit! You knew better. What do you expect me to do about it?"

"Make it stop? Or make it bearable if it can't be stopped." Ironhide was too exhausted to stand anymore but Swoop held him upright against his side long enough to get him to a repair table. Once Ironhide was safely on the table, Swoop knelt beside him, drooping. Ironhide stroked the side of his crest.

"No. One ported connection, fine. But two... Two! What were you thinking?" Then he laughed. "Oh! I think I see it now. You had only ever been with the femmes before, who generally deny having an interface cable," at Ironhide's expression, Ratchet smirked. "Didn't know that about Chromia, did you? And you didn't connect the technical descriptions to what you were doing, did you, Swoop? 'Resonant Signature Bleed-through' is what you've got. It will diminish; it doesn't explain why you both look like you've run around the planet."

The room was silent except for the cycling of the systems in two exhausted mechs.

Ratchet wasn't going to let them off the hook easily. Ironhide's optics were off and Swoop looked likely to fall over as he started an energon transfusion for his partner. Frowning, Ratchet moved to intervene. "Here, let me take care of that," he said as he took the line from Swoop's shaking hand and started the flow for the red 'Bot himself. "You can take in energon the normal way. Get yourself down to the galley and fuel up. I want to have a talk with Ironhide."

Swoop made a sound of protest. "That's an order, Swoop. Get out, get fuel, come back for your normal training shift." With a lingering look at Ironhide as he stood up, Swoop gathered himself and left, posture indicating reluctance.

Ratchet looked down at his patient, running the habitual system scans as he spoke. "I know you're on-line, your cooling system cycles louder when you're not. I expected you to be out of commission for a while if you ever indulged Swoop's daydreams, but why is he nearly as bad off as you? Even a dual connection doesn't cause a drain."

"Swoop. He actively sent energy across the connection, thinkin' to ... I don't know what. I was already overchargin' so I had to let it flow back to 'im. That pushed 'im back into overload but the connection was still there so he let it flow on back ta me. We were... It was..." Ironhide paused, realizing he wasn't getting anywhere. He on-lined his optics to look at Ratchet and was surprised that his long-time friend didn't look angry, just concerned. He gathered himself. "I can't describe it, Ratch'. We didn't want it to end but our systems could only take so much before everythin' shut down in self-defense. When we were able to disengage, the sense of energy feedback didn't stop. Now that he's not right beside me, it's more bearable, and since my actual energy level is comin' back up it's even pleasant again." He glanced from the medic to the lifeline and back. "Thank you for allowin' the infusion." He paused and shook his head, "We were concerned that the feedback didn't stop when we disconnected."

"Sounds like you made some kind of field connection," Ratchet said thoughtfully. "I've heard of such a thing, more - hmmmm, intense - than resonant signature bleed-through." He was searching his medical database, scowling, but not at Ironhide, at the internal effort to access entries never used. Louder: "Primus! I don't even have that part of the file anymore." He looked back at Ironhide on the repair table, who was getting visibly more energetic as the energon flowed into his systems. His face perfectly serious, he said, "Ironhide, I'll do some research and get back to you." He disconnected the line and stepped away from the table, no longer looking at Ironhide. "You don't look like you've done any major harm. Your internal repair system seems to have the stress to your cooling system under control. Go on down to the common room and grab some energon the usual way. Take it easy. You can play Optimus' yeoman today but don't -" he looked pointedly at Ironhide as the red one levered himself upright, "do not - go on any sort of expedition. I don't care if Megatron himself is involved, you send someone in your place." He looked away again, tidying something up, "I'll do some research and get back to you."

Moderately alarmed at Ratchet's uncharacteristic repetition, Ironhide stood up and took hold of Ratchet's upper arm to make him look back at him. "Ratchet, have I done anything that might harm Swoop?"

Eye to eye with him, Ratchet smiled tightly. "From all accounts, Swoop did it. And I don't know for sure or I'd damn well tell you. Let me check some things out. I haven't heard of anyone making a permanent field-bond in ... well, ever. Not in my lifetime. It's something that was done commonly, early in the war, mostly by mechs who worked so closely together they needed to be able to communicate at the speed of their processors without making a physical or radio link. Two 'Bots could go into enemy territory and communicate without any chance of that communication being detected by the Decepticons. It's sorta like what the gestalt members do when they merge, but if you've done what I think you've done..." He shook his head, looking exasperated, "Let me check into it before I run my vocalizer and maybe get you all spun-up for nothing."

Ironhide let him go, processor racing. He'd heard stories of what happened to some of those teams, how helpful a field-bond could be, and how debilitating to the one remaining if the other was killed. He stood in the repair bay, CPU stuck in a loop of excitement, recrimination, unease, and guilt. He'd spent so much time in the last several weeks with Swoop, listening to him when he felt like talking, telling him stories and bits about himself when he didn't, he'd developed a deep affection for the Dinobot. Part of his protest to Optimus and Ratchet had been to try to convince himself that he couldn't, shouldn't, didn't feel anything special for Swoop, think too often about him, or treasure the visits to his office, the rapt attention, the companionship. But he did. And he continued to. Processing Ratchet's suspicion, Ironhide wondered if the certainty that Swoop was thinking about him as he slugged energon in the galley was imagination or knowledge. He off-lined his optics to focus on blanking his processors, 'watching' them for activity or readings that were not in his immediate environment. The effort was no good, even before Ratchet spoke up: he just couldn't stop actively replaying the events of the last several hours.

"Fraggit! I know you heard me, Ironhide! Get on down to the common room to top up your systems and go about your business. I'll call you when I figure this out." Ratchet stalked off to his office in back and closed the door.

"What have I done?" he drawled slowly to himself, finally getting motivated to leave the room.

-X-X-X-

Optimus thought he showed great restraint in not demanding that his friend tell him anything. Concerned that all he got when he tried to start a conversation with, "I heard about Grimlock's performance last night; how did Swoop take it?" was a purposeful "I'm not ready to talk about it," he dropped it completely. Ironhide seemed withdrawn, as if he were running on auto-pilot all day. Optimus assumed that Ironhide had either tried to let Swoop down easy or they had gotten up to something that hadn't gone well and, either way, their sketch artist wouldn't be occupying one of the otherwise little-used chairs in Ironhide's office. He didn't know what to make of it when Swoop made his usual late afternoon appearance, demeanor as reserved as Ironhide's.

While having a discussion with Prowl about tactics and the probability of success of each of the options in a given scenario, Optimus heard Ratchet's voice through the closed door of his office. "-come with me. Both of you."

Ironhide sent him a text message on his console: Going to repair bay; Ratchet's orders. He returned to his present task, tedious as he found it, and they agreed that providing security for the launch-at-sea of a weather satellite could not be handled solely by Seaspray and Skyfire.

When Prowl finally left, Optimus walked out with him. Ironhide had not returned so he took himself down to medical to look for him. When he got there, only First Aid was visible. "Good afternoon, Prime," the Protectobot greeted him, "What can I do for you?"

"Good Afternoon, First Aid. I'm looking for Ironhide or Ratchet. Is either of them around?"

First Aid looked toward the closed door of Ratchet's office. "Ratchet's got Ironhide in his office." He didn't offer any further information.

Optimus waited long enough to be sure the young medic was not going to continue. "And? Is something wrong? Is Swoop with them?"

First Aid looked abashed but didn't answer immediately. "Prime," he began.

He didn't continue. The door to Ratchet's office opened and all three mechs came out. Swoop and Ironhide headed for the exit, their body language reading differently than before despite the fact that they walked at the same distance from each other as ever. Ratchet saw Prime and stopped short. "Optimus, we need to talk." Before Prime could say anything to Ironhide, the tone of Ratchet's statement struck him and garnered his full attention. Ironhide and Swoop were gone and Ratchet was holding the door to his office open. "Please, step into my office." He did as the CMO bade. Once he passed the door, Ratchet said to First Aid, "If anyone else comes in today, 'Aid, you handle it. I'm only here if someone is in multiple pieces."

On First Aid's affirmative, Ratchet closed the door. "Now," he said, "I have seen everything."

Optimus waited, trusting Ratchet to explain.

"We have a completely inadvertent, fortunately fully compatible field-bond in our ranks now." Ratchet paused to assess his Prime's reaction to this. It was non-existent. "Strays the processor a bit, doesn't it? Swoop should have known better, having studied the various levels of field resonance, but he did it anyway. Primus! Ironhide should have known better, being aware when field-bonds were common and knowing why they passed out of usage." Ratchet shook his head. "Doesn't mean he knew how they were initiated, though. Just like Swoop's studies didn't really let him know the personal consequences. He just wanted to share energy with Ironhide, he said."

Optimus was still processing Ratchet's first sentence. "Field bond? Isn't that like what the gestalts have?"

Ratchet smiled tightly. "In providing instantaneous communication, yes. The biggest documented difference is the logistics: where gestalt teams only experience it when they are physically merged, the field-bonded duo will experience it when they are physically close. The Ark doesn't provide enough space for them to stop hearing each other; Oregon state probably doesn't provide enough space. It looks like Ironhide's stable enough to ground Swoop and Swoop bolsters Ironhide's energy levels. I'll have to upgrade 'Hide's cooling system whether he wants me to or not, but we'll handle that when he realizes why I told him he needs it. He protested, of course. Learning the hard way won't do him any lasting harm."

"What does it mean?"

"That's up to them. They're both smart enough to work something out." Ratchet moved one shoulder in an approximation of a shrug. To Prime's disappointment, he didn't have much to add.

He found he didn't have enough information to form probing questions, so he asked Ratchet to prepare a full technical report on field-bonds for the next day and left Ratchet in his office. The repair bay was empty as his processor. Of course, as soon as he was in sight of the door to the office suite he shared with Ironhide a good one came to him: what is the significance of being 'fully-compatible'?

Ironhide looked up from his desk when the door was keyed open. He wore a more relaxed expression than Prime would have thought possible given Ratchet's news. Rather than a greeting, Prime uttered the question that was tying up his processor: "What did Ratchet mean when he said you two have a fully-compatible field bond?"

The door cycled shut behind Prime. Ironhide lowered his head as if to study something on the surface of his desk and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand before looking up at Prime from under his optic ridge, head still bowed in that characteristic way. "I-ah haven't got a good grasp on that yet, myself, Optimus," he drawled, "but Swoop seems pleased." He paused as if listening, then continued, dropping his arm, "He says it means a lot o' things. It means we have similar enough processor speeds and buffer capacities to maintain nominal function - neither of us'll be hindered by the other. It means we get along well enough - " Prime made an amused sound and Ironhide paused and straightened up to give his friend a frank look. Prime made an apologetic gesture and Ironhide continued, "- we, well, we get along well enough. Ratch's not worried one of us will try to deactivate the other to get some peace. Apparently that happened in a few cases. It means we have similar tolerances for error, similar patience," he paused again, "and the ability to cope with uncertainty - neither of us is likely to put the other into processor-lock."

"I'm having trouble imagining Swoop saying all that," Prime mused as he settled in one of the chairs across from Ironhide - Swoop's chair, he'd come to think of it. "Tell me clearly, Ironhide, when you look like you stopped to listen just now, were you?" Ironhide had already made an affirmative gesture. Prime continued without missing a beat, "Did he really explain all of that?"

"Aye, more even," Ironhide looked down again and repeated the gesture with his hand on the back of his neck. Prime realized he was unconsciously hiding a bit behind his elbow when he did that. "Things I, ah, don't think you wanna know an' I know I don't wanna say." The smile on his faceplates was enough for Prime.

Prime rested his elbows on the desk and leaned forward, earnestly meeting his friend's optics. "You seem to be handling this well. Are you? Are you both?"

Ironhide's smile broadened a bit. He nodded, "Yeah, Optimus, we are. Better than 'well', I'd say."

Prime nodded in satisfaction and stood up. "If you need anything, old friend, even if it's just some quiet away from the Ark, don't hesitate to ask." He headed for his own office.

Ironhide stopped him with a word, "Grimlock." At the quizzical look behind the battlemask, Ironhide explained flatly: "I expect trouble with Grimlock. When he orders Swoop to move back in with the Dinobots, can you claim some priority of resource allocation to countermand it?"

Prime smiled. "Yes, but I don't have to. Swoop, like all Autobots, can spend his free time anywhere he's welcome." His expression became serious, "I expect him to drill with the Dinobots as Grimlock may dictate as unit commander, but when he's off-duty, he's a free mech. He can even recharge anywhere he's comfortable. Does he already consider himself moved out of the Dinobots' hall?"

"They tossed his personal effects out in the hallway last night, amazin'ly mostly intact." Ironhide got that listening look again, "First Aid's helping him trade out my berth for his. 'Aid put his brothers up to distracting the other Dinobots for a while. Apparently there's a poorly-matched football game in progress." They made eye contact.

"Better warn Ratchet," they said in stereo.