Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers

Summary: Starts right in the middle of the battle of Chicago after the prologue, random plat bunny that was starting to hurt if I didn't write.

Ok, just finished watching the Devil Wears Prada and am using the "xxxxx" character of Miranda Presley as basis or Mearing's attitude problem...

Breem - 8.3 Earth minutes

Joor - About 6.5 Earth hours

Orn - About 13 Earth day

Vorn - About 83 Earth years

Thank you Karategal for the time conversions!

Chapter Five

Never Was

xxx

Iacon

xxx

Optimus didn't bother looking up from the data pads he was trying to work on when something dropped, the semi loud crash and resulting hasty whispers were all too common in his office suite. Prowl's work style was diligent and silent, usually ending in him being ahead of schedule up to a day or more. Jazz on the other servo...

Was "hyper" and preferred working with some form of music, the faster paced and louder the better.

The two could work together just fine...but not when Ratchet would be at his work station as the medic worked in mostly quiet but with a constant live feed from the medical bay he worked at. Decagon had gladly accepted him to work there.

Prowl accepted the minor noise, Jazz didn't because then he had to turn his music down to just his internal audio receptors so the medical officer could still hear his live feed. While the three were adjusting to working for the newest and youngest Prime, they also had to adjust to work with each other. Easier spoken than processed or even applied.

Ironhide was the only one in relative peace during this "adjustment" period. His bodyguard sensors were on high, meaning if he truly wanted to, the mech could disable his audio receptors completely and not hear the whispered bickering in the next office.

At the other Lord Protectors' and guards' insistence, Ironhide had a seat in the corner of Prime's office, not a full desk as it would just get in his way but an in wall computer terminal and chair so he was nearby yet out of the way.

"Slag it Prowl! Now look what you did!"

Optimus Prime sighed softly, setting the data pad down and resting his elbow joints on his desk and rubbing at his optics. Now he understood why his Sire would come home so late from the Council and very rarely be in the mood to play with his younger sons.

"Will you two glitch-heads shut up? The Prime's next door, do you want to get booted?"

FZZT!

"Aw frag!"

Ironhide didn't hide his snort as he stood to glance into the main office area while Prime stood slowly, rearranging his data pads to come back to once he made sure Prowl was alright, the bot had a faulty logic coding circuit, meaning he literally crashed his processor if something confused him just right...His processor was unable to keep up.

Ratchet was checking Prowl's prone form on the floor as Jazz went ahead and took over his duties, this was the second time in the last joor that Prowl had crashed, and the kilk Optimus Prime had learned of the quirk he'd made a rule for Prowl's well-being, two crashes within half an Orn and the mech got the rest of the day off plus another to recover.

Optimus stepped into the main area as Ratchet brought Prowl back online, the medic's optics narrowed in agitation.

"I don't even want to know what it was this time."

"That is logical...I am not aware of what it was at this time either."

Optimus held out a servo as Ratchet stepped back after noticing his boss, the Prime pulling Prowl to his pedes. "Go get some rest Prowl, I will see you tomorrow."

The mech sighed almost inaudibly, not agreeing but not arguing with his Prime. Jazz glanced up as the other mech departed, but the saboteur didn't speak, ducking his helm again to return to work. Ratchet watched Optimus for a moment, waiting for orders, only to see as the Prime watched Prowl depart before lowering his own helm and returning to his private office.

Ironhide met the medic's optics, nodding in understanding as he turned to follow his charge.

And then get shoved violently backwards.

...

Optimus rolled his optics at Megatron's lethal claws on his throat, merely bucking his hips against his brother's knee that pinned him, giving the Prime enough leverage to roll out from underneath and make sure Ironhide didn't fire on the Lord Protector.

"Is this really necessary to attack when retrieving me for training?"

"I wouldn't bother if you would just actually show up at training then making me come fetch you like a desperate cyberhound."

Optimus sighed softly, accepting Megatron's servo to pull his massive frame upright, "You know I'd prefer not having these sessions."

"Doesn't change the Council's orders."

"I know."

xxx

For once, Ratchet joined Ironhide and Jazz in watching Megatron and Optimus train together. Traditionally, the Prime was the civilian, spiritual, and economical leader, while the Lord Protector was the sciences, maths, military, and research/development leader. But they both had to know enough of each others duties to be able to act as a temporary substitute within the Council if the need arose.

Currently, Optimus was holding his own rather well, not winning, but not getting beaten to a pile of scrap.

Until Megatron shifted one servo into a rather nasty looking blade, ready to swing and decapitate his brother.

Prime shifted his own servo, releasing a glowing energon blade that sliced right through Megatron's. The move earned a frustrated howl before Megatron swung a fist at Prime in retaliation.

And was stopped by another servo.

Ultra Magnus was filthy from guard training, but still running warm enough to block his younger brother's hits, parrying them professionally and fighting back. At least until Optimus joined in to defend Megatron.

How the simple one on one training session turned into a three mech free for all...Ironhide hadn't a clue, but watching Prime's optics go from serious and calm to light and playful was worth it. It was nice to know their Prime had a fun side to him as well.

Megatron ducked under a wild swing from Magnus, calling out to Optimus to duck, just not speaking fast enough. The fist collided with Prime's helm, and he fell into a roll that dropped him under Magnus' legs.

He yanked.

Ironhide hid a chuckle as the resounding boom of two huge mechs hitting the ground echoed in the gym. Ultra Magnus had grabbed Megatron in a tackle just as Optimus had yanked on his unbalanced legs. And the pair went tumbling down.

The three were dead silent, staring at each other before Megatron sneezed, intakes hitching violently. Prime busted out laughing, clutching his abdomen as he howled, Magnus joined in as Megatron gave his brother a deadly glare, but even he couldn't resist. Prime's deep baritone laugh was contagious, and he was downright amusing, practically rolling on the floor as energon condensation dripped from his optics.

Magnus settled first, standing and pulling Megatron to his feet, the silver mech heaving for air to settle his fans and intakes. Optimus couldn't stand for several minutes, finally able to do so as he wheezed for air.

"Only Primus knows what goes through your processor Optimus Prime, sir."

"Magnus...you are my brother, enough with the formality."

:He won't, he'll keep being a stuck up aft.:

"Megatron!"

Magnus sighed, shaking his head and cuffing his brother's helm in reprimand as he nodded to Optimus in parting, leaving the pair to speak with another mech in the gym.

"I didn't say anything."

"Not aloud, but the protector bond picked up on your thoughts, your lucky the brother bond didn't sense it."

Megatron shrugged, clawed servos flexing absently, "You know it's true."

"Megatron..."

The mech sighed theatrically, bowing to Optimus with an air of smug indifference.

"Very well, most high Prime, punish me as you wish."

Optimus seemed to be thinking over this, looking to Megatron to begin to speak.

When the mech's glossa poked out in jest.

The Prime laughed.

...

Ironhide wished to Primus he had recorded that, or had Jazz or even Ratchet do so...that was the last time Prime laughed...

...ever...

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