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Whirl collapsed on the bar with a dejected sigh and stuck his claw out towards the buzzing bartender, who regarded him with sad purple optics.
"Hmmm. Whirl izz having bad day?" Waspinator asked, plucking a glass from below the counter and a non-engex brew from the stash.
"The worst, basically," Whirl mumbled.
"Izz Whirl not allowed to attend graduation zzeremony again?" Waspinator asked, handing Whirl a spicy virgin drink to nurse.
"Every fragging time," Whirl exvented, sampling his drink, "For the love of Primus, you'd think ol' Heatwave figured I was gonna blow the place up or somethin'. I dunno what crawled up his afthole and died."
"Hrrm," buzzed Waspinator, tapping his mandible with one claw, "Wazzpinator do not like thizz. Wazzpinator think Whirl zzhould be allowed to attend zzeremony."
"Ayy, at least somebody is on my side!" Whirl cheered, staring at his drink as he swirled it, "Kiddo says it's fine, she understands, but I know it breaks her up inside. I never been out to her school, but the other kids get their friends and mentors out there for graduation all the time."
"That's some real bullshit," Sandstorm said, from where he was pretending to sleep on the bar, "Heatwave is such an asshole."
"When did you start using earth cuss words?" Whirl asked.
"I dunno," Sandstorm said, without raising his head, "I'm trying something fucking new."
"Right," said Whirl, turning away, "It is bullshit though."
"Wazzpinator agree. It izz 'bullzzhit.' Friend Whirl would never hurt zzparklingzz."
Whirl blinked his optic, "Friend?"
"Hello?" Waspinator said, into his commline, turning away and leaning back against the bar, "Friend Windblade! Izz okay if Wazzpinator azzk teeny tiny favour?"
"What are you doing?" Whirl asked, balking.
"Playing Zzybertronian telephone," Waspinator winked, "Wazzpinator very good at game."
When Whirl got a ping from an unfamiliar commline, he was initially suspicious. He didn't get a lot of calls, and when he did, they were almost exclusively from people he already knew. Strangers calling usually meant he was going back to prison.
"Hello?" he asked hesitantly.
"Hi, is this Whirl?" the unfamiliar voice asked.
"Yeah, he's me," Whirl answered, "What's it to ya'?"
"Hi, my name is Blades, actually, I'm-"
"You're a professor at Whirligirl's school!" Whirl exclaimed, scrambling to sit up straight on the couch, "Hello!"
"Oh," the other voice stammered, sounding surprised, "Yes, I am, how did you know that?"
"Are you kiddin' me? Whirligirl talks the moon about you. If she had her way you'd be the next pick for Prime!" Whirl laughed nervously.
"Well, we love having her here. She's just a true delight and an excellent student," Blades said, "top of her class."
"Is she okay?" Whirl asked, "She ain't hurt or nothin', is she?"
"No, no, nothing like that," Blades said quickly, "I'm calling because- well, I know that you put in a request to come for graduation every year, and Heatwave rejects it every year, but-"
"But?"
"But this year someone's been playing Cybertronian phone tag, and Windblade called Bumblebee and Bumblebee is my Conjunx so he called me, and, well. I wanted to speak to you."
"Well, I, uh-" Whirl stammered, "What do you wanna know?"
"Heatwave always denies your request on the grounds of your criminal history," Blades told him, "You have a nearly limitless record of violence and a history of unpredictability. Heatwave is particularly incensed about some kind of incident with someone called Springer-"
"That was personal-" Whirl cut him off, "I respect the pit out of Springer. I got booted for trying to mercy kill him when he was in a coma. I wasn't trying to murder him for no good reason. I didn't think he wanted to live like that."
"Hmm," Blades hummed, taking in that information, "I'm led to believe he was friends with Springer at some point before the war. He's a big fan of the Wreckers, and I think he really doesn't like you because of that."
"I ain't the worst Wrecker, not by far," Whirl said, then thought better of it, "Listen, I would never hurt a sparkling. That ain't me. You can look at my record. I ain't never done that. I'd never hurt a kid. And I promise, I swear, I'll be on my best behaviour, like, I will be a picture of civility, you have no idea, I will-"
"Whirl does seem sad every year when you aren't there," Blades says, "I know she calls you every night. You must be very close. She calls you her father, you know? How did you end up in such a non-mechanical type relationship, anyway?"
"Well, uh, I raised her, you know," Whirl told him, "She was just a little ball o'scraplets when I found her, and I helped her learn to pick a shape and hold it, and all about Cybertron, and what she wanted to be and do, and all that- she ain't grown the same way most mechanoids do, you know, it's a little funky and real slow."
"I've noticed her growth rate is different than what I would anticipate. I think I'm probably more likely to be familiar with the traditional father daughter relationship than most Cybes you'll meet, so. Trust me when I say I truly, truly do want to find a way to have you come to her graduation this year, as I know how much it would mean to her, but I don't know how to assu-"
"What if I bring chaperones?!" Whirl blurted.
"Pardon?"
"Chaper- I could bring my junxies. Their records are way cleaner than mine. Hell, Tailgate is basically squeaky clean! Mech slept through the whole dang war!"
"Hm," said Blades, "That's a very good idea. I can't make any guarantees, but I can speak to Heatwave on your behalf."
"Thank you," Whirl exvented, suddenly realizing he had been holding it, "I don't know if I can tell you how much it would mean to me to be there for her."
"I'll do my best, Whirl."
Whirl bounced on her pedes with all the excitement of a freshly harvested sparkling.
"I'm just so happy!" She exclaimed, grabbing Medix by the servos and spinning him around in an impromptu dance, "You finally get to meet my dad!"
"Ahh!" Medix cried as he was spun, "I must admit, I have been extremely curious to meet this "father" you speak of so often!"
"Yeah, Whirl, I think we're all pretty excited to finally meet him," Wedge said, and gently moved to replace Medix in her little dance.
"Well, I've already met him," Hot Shot boasted, "He's pretty cool."
"I heard he's pre-war," said Hoist, "That would make him four million years old, right?"
"Yup!" confirmed Whirl, "He's old and weird like all war era bots."
“Do you think he ever met Optimus Prime?” asked Medix.
“Are you kidding!” Whirl burst, spinning Wedge away and throwing her servos in the air, “He used to work with him when he was still just Orion Pax!”
“Orion Pax?” Hot Shot echoed.
“That was his pre-Matrix name!” Whirl said, “My dad said he used to be a police officer, just like I’m gonna be! My dad was a policeman, too, and he used to be on his squad!” She leaned in close, whispering, “He told me once he even has his personal commline number stashed.”
“Wow,” her four classmates exvented, in awe, before they all snapped to attention when the door opened.
“Wow, okay, you’re all already here,” Heatwave started, servo still on the door keypad, “I suppose that saves me some time calling you.”
Whirl twirled on her pedes, “Yes, yes, I can’t wait! I want to show him everything!”
“Remember,” said Heatwave as he descended the stairs into the hangar, “Cyclonus and Tailgate are supposed to keep an eye on him at all times.”
“Yes, sir!” she said, with a tight salute, “I understand!”
“Who are Cyclonus and Tailgate?” Wedge whispered.
“My stepdads,” Whirl whispered back.
“Two of them?” asked Medix.
“Yeah, two of them,” Whirl confirmed.
Heatwave opened the spacebridge from the commconsole, and inside the metal circle, the nexxus swirled neon green and teal, spinning light that refracted in weird ways.
“Alright, you can come on through now,” he said into his commline.
Whirl resisted the urge to run forward and engage in full-force hug mode when her father and his conjunxes stepped through the spacebridge, but was delighted when her dad did it for her and skipped forward to scoop her up like a sparkling and loft her up into the air, giggling like mad.
“Whirlygirl!” he cheered, spinning her around, before pulling her in for a great big hug. She clung to his helm, smiling like mad as she thought of all the things she wanted to show him.
“Hi there, kids!” Tailgate said, waving, “It’s nice to meet you all!”
“Oh, um, hello sir!” said Hoist, “It’s nice to meet you, too! My name is Hoist!”
“Oh, right! Sorry, hang on!” Little Whirl said, wiggling to be let down. Whirl set her down on the floor and she skittered back to her classmates, pointing.
“This is Hoist, Medix, Wedge, and Hot Shot! And this,” she said, spinning around to face her friends, “Is my dad, Whirl, and his conjunxes Tailgate, and Cyclonus!”
“You can have two conjunxes?” Medix asked, blinking his optics.
“Sure can!” Whirl told him, “There’s no rules!” she said, throwing her servos into the air again. “Come on, come on, I want to show you around the school!” she grabbed at the big Whirl’s claw and tugged.
“Let’s show him the racetrack first!” Hot Shot exclaimed.
“No, no, let’s show him the field!” Wedge argued.
“I’m sure we’ll have time to see anything you want to show us,” Tailgate said, skittering down the ramp to stand next to the big Whirl, “Let’s go see that racetrack first.”
“Yes!” said Hot Shot with a fist pump.
“Thank you for allowing us to come,” Cyclonus said, turning to Heatwave as he shut down the spacebridge while the kids dragged Whirl and Tailgate down the hall, “I know that it was not something you felt confident would go well, but I cannot express to you how much I appreciate it.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Heatwave, gruffly, “Just don’t break my school.”
“I assure you, you have nothing to worry ab-”
They were interrupted by a loud shriek of metal and several horrified gasps.
“Why are these ceilings so low?!” Whirl’s voice said, echoing through the hallways. Heatwave narrowed his optics at Cyclonus.
“Allow me to rephrase. We’ll pay for any damages,” Cyclonus said.
Heatwave rolled his optics, and turned away from the spacebridge.