Work Text:
"It's a good color!" Misfire finished for him, lounging on the couch with a glass of Bumblebee's most expensive spiced energon in his hand - perfect for colder mornings, but without the engex as he knew how to be a Responsible Babysitter. "Not as good as fuchsia or magenta, but still pretty good."
Bumblebee was not used to this many people in his little apartment in Iacon, and even when there were that many people, it was mini-bots; Aileron and Rattrap and a pair of Divisiunians named Weld and Rotor. Even the smallest one was at least as tall as Starscream, and there were six of them. Grimlock on his own took up the entire of the space in front of the TV, in alt mode and curled up to be more comfortable on the floor.
The yellow bot gently hefted the baby in his single hand, shifting in his position against the kitchen counter that faced out towards the media suite, and laid a palm on her stomach, feeling how warm and soft she was in comparison. "I mean, I guess. Not as good as yellow, but it's pretty nice. The Decepticon symbol's a bit heavy handed though, don't you think?"
Krok shrugged where he had his legs and stabilizers thrust over Spinister's lap on the floor between the couch and Grimlock. He had energon as well, but Bee thought he could see the heavy glass of an engex flask tucked beside his hip. "Wasn't our decision. Her father thought it was clever. I think it's a bit tacky to be honest, but hey, it's not my face."
Connie yawned wide, showing her toothless gums like a newborn kitten, and Bee seized up again, afraid of waking her. Misfire caught his expression and slid off the couch, bouncing gracefully over where Crankcase had fallen into recharge on the floor taking selfies for his boyfriend. "Bee-buddy, no reason to be so tense! It's just a baby, they don't bite." He popped his arms up under the baby and took her, cradling her like an expert nurse. "Your bud Roddy said you were a pro with the little organic protoforms. Thought that's why he turned us away at the door; figured you'd be psyched to see her."
Rodimus had probably turned them away from the Lost Light because the last time Misfire had boarded, he'd taken the newly reconstructed Rod Pod on a joyride and totaled it again. Bee didn't say that though, choosing instead to lean over Connie cradled in Misfire's arms, tucked in her little outfit that looked oddly like some kind of many legged Earth creature. "No, I love kids...it just would have been nice if he had called before five strange Decepticons and Grimlock showed up on my porch with an abnormally large purple baby. War's over, but I'm still half the size of the average Cybertronian and a little paranoid."
"Your personal frequency changed." Grimlock's voice was deep enough to nearly shake the floor where he lay. His mouth didn't move as he spoke, but Bee could see his optics now focused on the baby and him instead of the TV. "Whatever they did to bring you back, your whole body's new. Not the same frequency. Had a couple bots try to call, and all of them got an empty signal back."
Frowning, Bee accepted the baby back from Misfire, who was eyeing Crankcase's abandoned energon. "I'll have to give out my new frequency...I forgot that no one on the Lost Light has heard from me since I woke up."
The hand off must have been too rough, because just then Connie whined, then burst into tears. Crankcase woke as well, flailing his arms in his usual expressionless surprise and managing to knock Misfire off balance and to the floor. Grimlock watched Bee dodge out of the way with a slightly amused expression, rumbling softly as the yellow mini-bot jumped to the side and out of the way of flailing jet wings and angry 'Con limbs.
The baby wailed again in Bee's arms, and he nearly jumped out of his kibble. Her little face scrunched and wrinkled in displeasure, her fingers grabbing out in the air for something. Unsure of what else to do, he carefully slid the end of his index digit into her tight little grasp, but it only quieted her for a second. Misfire had been effectively distracted by Crankcase, and they tussled on the floor, the former trying to grab the latter by his guns. The other Scavengers looked on in mild interest, as though the two thrashing bots on his floor weren't knock stuff over and making Connie cry even more.
Wheeljack had been somewhat pressed for time when he put all of Bumblebee's parts together. The body had been grown from sentio metallico into his shape, like a forged bot, but because of the hurried nature of the construction and the...strange way the spark was lit, it had some interesting idiosyncrasies, almost like some of the early experimental MTOs he had known during the war.
Some of them made his life a little more difficult - his knee injury had apparently become spark printed, so even now he walked with a cane on his worst days - but some were just strange. His optics would flicker different colors if he drank certain kinds of energon, loud noises could make his cooling fans start regardless of temperature, and...
As his engine kicked in from the stress of having a crying child in his arms and the two mechs fighting on his floor, a high pitched droning buzz filled the air. It vibrated hard enough to shake his plating and rattle his denta, and he sighed and bit down so they wouldn't shake out of his head; Wheeljack had told him there was no way to fix it, since it was caused by the irregular pulses of his spark, but Primus if it didn't make him want to tear his engine out some days.
Connie, on the other hand, seemed quite pleased. Her crying slowly eased as Bee's chassis and arms vibrated against her until it went silent, and she stared up at him with eyes a red so bright they were like tiny pools of nucleon. He paused, looking down at her in surprise, then smiled with his denta still clenched and cooed, "You like that? Little squishy 'Con likes the buzzy Bee?"
Her giggle tinkled like Praxian crystal chimes, high and soft and sweet. Being so much bigger than her human base, her voice was different and lower, but it didn't have that echoing tinny quality to it that Bee had never noticed Cybertronians did until he traveled off world and spoke to organics. Amusement pulled her face into a different set of creases and wrinkles, crumpling her nose and squinting and squeezing tighter on his digit.
"Slagging Pits!" Misfire was suddenly hovering over Bee's shoulder, watching Connie grin toothlessly at the mini-bot's boxy face. Crankcase was still on the ground, wiping spilled energon off his legs. "Her pops said she'd been laughing, but I thought he was lying cause he wanted to make it look like she was some super baby! Damn, now I owe that slagger Scorponok fifty shanix. I'm never babysitting for him and that Cybertronian orange Julius ever again, they just take my money."
Bee laughed, still staring down in sudden spark shuddering adoration at the baby in his arms. "I thought you said you didn't know much about organics? For all you know, she should be up and walking already." Then the name the Scavenger had dropped processed, and pried his gaze off the baby to look up at Misfire. "Did you say Scorponok?'
He nodded nonchalantly, waving a digit at the baby. "Yeah, him n' his little Autobot conjunx cooked her up in a test tube." He paused, biting his lip. "Well, I guess he's not little, he's actually only a little shorter than me but EVERYONE looks short next to Scorponok of 'Built like a damn combiner"..."
Misfire chattered on as Bee felt his processes slowly detach from his physical brain module. His vision was unfocused as he looked back down at Connie, gummy mouth still clamped around his digit. In that moment, she felt smaller and even more delicate than before, and his engine buzz hitched with a touch of nerves.
"Well, no one will ever mess with you," he muttered into his arms, loosening his grip so she could lay more comfortably. "But damn if that isn't a big legacy to live up to."