Chapter Text
While there were certainly a lot of benefits to being on Earth opposed to Cybertron (#1 being the significantly lower number of rules here), one of the unfortunate downfalls to being a part of the planet’s Autobot team was, to Sideswipe’s disgruntlement, strategy meetings. Especially when some Autobots made a point of using these meetings to try to ask for more rules and regulations.
“What?! No way, Strongarm! That’s the dumbest plan I’ve ever heard! We’re already patrolling the area, and running patrols in a “constant, grid-by-grid search pattern” isn’t going to change anything in how we find Decepticons!” Sideswipe scowled at the femme where she was seated a short distance away. “And even if it did, there’s no way anyone is getting me to do that.”
Huffing through her vents, Strongarm glared back at him, draining her cube of energon before answering. “Well, excuse me for attempting to be productive! And according to police academy regulations, when there is a dangerous criminal on the loose, or a convict that had escaped custody, that is the proper protocol for tracking them down! It increases search efficiency and greatly reduces possible escape routes!”
“You know what else it does? Increase boredom and reduce free time!”
“Ok, ok, everyone calm down, and let’s see if we can discuss this calmly, like reasonable Autobots.” Bumblebee sighed, shuttering his optics for a moment before opening them again and glancing around the loose circle they’d all formed on the ground in the main clearing. “Everyone is welcome to make suggestions, and we don’t need to criticize others’ ideas just because we don’t like them.
“Sideswipe, while I agree that it’s not the most exciting search method, it has its uses and can be very effective under specific circumstances. Our current situation, Strongarm, is not exactly one of those circumstances. That type of search pattern is primarily used when the police force knows that a criminal is in a particular city, or a particular part of the city, and they can use that method to box them in. With how far the Decepticons have spread out by now, though, we have no idea where they could be, and we would spend most of our time searching the woods for no reason.”
Strongarm pursed her lips, shifting her gaze to the empty cube she was fiddling with in her lap. “I…guess you have a point, sir.”
Bumblebee nodded. “Of course, though, there may be the occasional time where a grid-by-grid sweep might be useful, so we’ll still make sure everyone knows how to do them. Now, any more ideas for new ways to track down the Alchemor’s escaped inmates? And no, Grimlock, punching Decepticons until they tell us where the other Cons are is not an option.”
As the Dinobot disappointedly put his servo down, and Drift spoke up, talking about the possibility of bugging known Decepticon hideouts, Sideswipe slumped forward, settling his arms on his crossed knees as he groaned. This whole thing seemed pointless. Instead of going out and finding the Decepticons, it seemed like they spent half of their time sitting around, talking about how to do it! While he absolutely enjoyed their free time and getting to laze around the scrapyard, spending that time planning maneuvers, protocols, and formations was not his idea of a good time. When he’d agreed to officially join the team and hunt down escaped Decepticon prisoners, he definitely had not—
His thought process was interrupted by patting on his left leg and a familiar, eager chirp. The feeling of annoyance quickly dissipated as he straightened back up and shifted his gaze down to meet Hot Rod’s bright optics. Immediately perking up at receiving the desired attention, the sparkling chirped again, leaning forward against the Lamborghini’s leg and stretching his servos out, tiny digits immediately making a grasping motion.
Unable to resist the sparkling for long, Sideswipe allowed his mouth to quirk upward into a grin. “What, is this what you want, Roddy?” He lifted the sparkling-sized energon cube he’d patiently been holding, chuckling as Hot Rod’s grasping and clicking quickened. “Alright, alright, here you go. Don’t spill it.”
He made sure not to let go until Hot Rod had a good grip on the cube, and the sparkling grinned happily at him as his trilling shifted into nonsensical babble. He’d been making more and more of those sounds over the last couple of weeks as his voice box continued developing, a sure sign that, in the near future, he was going to start figuring out words—something that Sideswipe couldn’t help but admit he was excited about. He traced a digit along the edge Hot Rod’s spoiler and the sparkling flopped forward contentedly onto his leg as he lifted the cube to his mouth while watching the rest of the team and their discussion.
The more time he spent around Hot Rod, getting to know what it was like taking care of a sparkling, the more he found that sparklings made almost no sense. There were some constants with Hot Rod, and others that could change on a daily or hourly basis. When recharging, he was fine getting a nap with anyone on the team around, even if Sideswipe wasn’t in the scrapyard at the moment. At night, though, he would not recharge without Sideswipe. Even if the team was out on a late mission, the sparkling would sit up on the Lamborghini’s berth, optics drooping as he fought to stay awake, until they got back. When fueling, on the other servo, his preferences changed constantly. Some days he would fuel in 10 minutes, glued to Sideswipe’s side until he was done. Other days, he would take his cube over to wherever he was playing and would take an hour to finish it. Today, for whatever reason, he didn’t want his energon all at once and wanted Sideswipe to hold onto it between fueling. And he literally wanted him to hold it. He’d set it on the ground in front of him the first time the sparkling had handed it back to him, and Hot Rod had gotten thoroughly annoyed and all but shoved it back into his servo. It made zero sense to him what the difference was, but he’d obliged the little bot’s current pickiness and continued to hold it, even as the strategy meeting got underway.
So yes, sparklings definitely made no sense sometimes, but how was he supposed to resist such a bright smile and cheerful em field?
As if sensing his thoughts, Hot Rod scootched himself back up to standing, holding the two-thirds empty cube out insistently. Sideswipe shook his helm and bypassed the proffered cube to lightly tickle the little bot under the chin. “Still not done, Bud? The rest of us have finished ours.” Squealing slightly as he ducked back to escape his digits, Hot Rod huffed and thrust the cube toward him again, babbling. Sideswipe held up a servo in surrender. “Ok, ok, I’ve got it. Go play.” He lowered his servo to accept the sparkling’s fuel, and as soon as he’d plopped the cube in his palm, energon thankfully low enough to not slosh over the side, Hot Rod chirped once before darting off behind him to continue playing.
Taking a brief moment before turning his attention back to the meeting, Sideswipe twisted slightly to look behind him at where Hot Rod had plopped back down next to his current activity. A few weeks back, Denny had used a saw to cut up some planks of wood he’d called “2x4s” into different sized pieces and painted the blocks of wood in a variety of different, bright colors. When asked about it, he said that human kids typically enjoyed a similar type of toy, and with his closeness in behavior to toddlers, he figured that the sparkling might like them too, as long as they were a little more appropriately sized for him. As he predicted, Hot Rod had immediately taken to the bright blocks of wood, and regularly used them in small building projects of questionable stability, although he sometimes instead just stacked them in piles by color or laid them out in nonsensical patterns or lines. Sideswipe wasn’t sure why he seemed to find that enjoyable, but if it kept him content and in one place for a while, who was he to argue with how he played?
Satisfied that Hot Rod was fine for the moment and staying out of trouble, Sideswipe reluctantly tuned back into the team meeting. Bumblebee was apparently in agreement with Drift’s idea for bugging some of the fairly common Decepticon haunts, and Fixit was positive he could rig up some sensors—fairly simple motion sensors, at least—from some of the remaining wreckage of the Alchemor.
“I’d be happy to help with those, too!” Denny knelt on the ground near the center of the circle, spreading out a paper map. “And while I of course don’t know every inch of the area, I do know that several of the nearby caves have multiple entrances and exits, and I should be able to remember where a lot of them are. After all, the more ways in and out we have bugged, the more likely we are to catch any trespassing Cons.”
Bumblebee nodded. “Absolutely. Once we get those sensors built, we’ll have to do some scouting to find the best places to hide them. We obviously don’t want the Decepticons to notice them and get tipped off that we know they’re there, but we also don’t want to risk any possible exploring humans discovering Cybertronian technology.”
Grimlock flashed a grin. “Well, if you need anything hidden way up high, you can count on me!”
“Same here!” Russell jumped to his feet, darting to stand in front of Bee with his hands clasped together pleadingly. “I bet I can figure out great spots where most humans would never think to look or wouldn’t notice anything! So, can I come along to help? Please?!”
Bumblebee chuckled and reached down to ruffle the human boy’s hair. “So long as there are no active Decepticon threats in the area at the time, we’d love to have you along. A human’s perspective could be really helpful.” As Russell ran his fingers through his hair, trying to straighten it out again, Bumblebee glanced up at Sideswipe. “I don’t think we’ve heard from you yet, Sideswipe. Any comments on the plan?”
“It sounds fine.” The Lamborghini waved a servo dismissively. Personally, he didn’t really care what they decided to do, so long as it didn’t eat into all his free time. “Putting up sensors to let us know where the Cons are without us leaving the comfort of the scrapyard seems like a great plan to me.” Behind him, he vaguely heard the faint clattering of wood, followed by a whine from Hot Rod. It sounded more like his “annoyed” whine than his “about-to-cry” whine, though, so he figured the sparkling was fine and he didn’t need to check on him.
“Not exactly the attitude I was looking for, but I’m glad you’re on board. Alright, so here’s how we’ll handle this. While Denny and Fixit are working on building the sensors, the rest of us will figure out the most likely spots Decepticons could use as hideouts. Once they’re finished, we’ll—“
“Fwag!”
The scrapyard could not have gone completely silent faster if someone had remotely deactivated all of their voice boxes at once, and they all whipped their helms around in record speed to stare in horror and astonishment at the apparent source of the high-pitched voice that that word absolutely should not have been coming out of. The object of their attention was completely unaware of their staring as he scowled in irritation at the collapsed remains of his block tower, back mostly turned to them.
Bumblebee was the first to find his voice again. “Please tell me that didn’t come out of Hot Rod.”
It took a moment for Sideswipe to force his voice box to work, and even then, finding the proper words for this moment proved to be a challenge. While there was part of him that made his spark want to burst with excitement because that was Hot Rod’s first word!, there was an equal part that made him want to go crawl in a hole because oh, scrud, that was Hot Rod’s first word…. “Um, unless we have a tiny, invisible intruder in the scrapyard…unfortunately.”
Strongarm growled, leveling a glare at him. “Well, fantastic, Sideswipe. I hope you’re proud of yourself, now that Hot Rod’s stuck with that as his first word. What exactly are you teaching him when we’re not around?!”
He whirled around to stare at her in indignation. “Excuse me?! I didn’t teach him that! I’ve never talked like that in front of him!”
“He had to learn it from somewhere, and you’re supposedly his favorite and spend the most time with him, so, by logic, of course it was you!”
“You can make whatever claims you want, but I’m telling you, it wasn’t me! It was probably, like, Fixit!” He quickly jabbed a digit towards the Minicon in accusation.
“Me?!” Fixit’s helm shot up in shock from where he had been laser focused on his data pad, probably trying to look up what to do in this type of situation. “Why I never! I have spent the last few months diligently researching how best to take care of a sparkling, and I certainly know better than to use that kind of language around Hot Rod!” He propped his servos on his hips, quickly scanning his gaze over the Autobots before whizzing over to the Dinobot and pointing to him. “I think it must have been Grimlock!”
In the middle of the circle of arguing Autobots, Russell walked over to his dad, crossing his arms and shaking his head at the situation. “Well, we know for a fact it was neither of us. I’m pretty sure that was Cybertronian.”
Denny straightened back up, tucking the map he’d been folding into his back pocket. “Oh, for sure. And before you ask,” He put his arm around Russell’s shoulders, cutting him off before the first word could leave his open mouth, “going off of the rough context, if you ever use that word, especially on purpose, you’re grounded for at least two weeks.”
Sagging, Russell sighed dejectedly. “Yeah, I figured….”
Meanwhile, at Fixit’s declaration, Grimlock gasped dramatically, slapping a servo to his chest plates. “How could you say that?! I don’t think I’ve ever even used that word in my life, and besides, I have more important things I’m gonna teach him than that. Like punching! So, maybe, uh, Drift taught him that!” Immediately, the Samurai shot him a look, and Grimlock wilted. “Or, you know, maybe it was Bee!”
“Alright, I’m cutting us off here. This is ridiculous.” Bumblebee crossed his arms and scowled at the circle of Autobots. “At this point, what happened, happened, he knows the word, and we can’t change that. And he may not even have heard it from any of us! It’s possible he overheard it from a Decepticon we’ve recaptured. Regardless, instead of pointlessly playing the blame game, there’s a very simple way to find out the answer. Hot Rod?”
Hot Rod had stood up from his spot on the ground, still glaring down at his blocks, but he immediately turned and cocked his helm at hearing his name. “So, Bud, that word you just said? Any chance you remember where you heard it?”
The sparkling flicked his gaze over them briefly, looking a little bewildered, blinked, then without hesitation, pointed right at Strongarm.
Everyone gasped, and Strongarm reeled back, optics wide. “What?! Me?! I—I wouldn’t—“ She spun to face Bumblebee, servos clasped together. “Sir, you have to believe me! I know not to talk like that in front of a sparkling! I would never say that kind of slag—“ She broke off abruptly, slapping her servos over her mouth. After a moment, she groaned and buried her faceplates in her servos. “I…didn’t mean to say that….
Sideswipe burst out laughing. “I can’t believe this! You had the audacity to accuse me of saying that in front of Hot Rod, and it turns out you were the one with the dirty mouth this whole time! Now who’s the bad influence, huh?! I expect a full apology where—“
“Si’es, he’p!”
Spark skipping a beat, Sideswipe clamped his mouth shut and yanked his attention down to his side where high-pitched, slightly-mispronounced words two and three had come from. Somewhere between his pronouncement of guilt and now, Hot Rod had left his blocks and come over to him, and having finally gotten his attention, the sparkling grabbed his arm and tugged on it. After a second, he chirped and emphatically pointed to his failed building project before repeating, “He’p!”
Sideswipe could only stare at Hot Rod, optics wide, as he sputtered in astonishment, trying to wrap his helm around the fact the the sparkling was talking to him. A few seconds later, Bumblebee spoke up, voice tinged with amusement. “Well, you heard him. He needs help. Best not keep him waiting.”
Looking back over to the others, at least half of them trying to hide grins, Sideswipe finally managed to get out a strangled “Yeah, ok,” and push himself up to his pedes. Chirping cheerfully and completely unaware of how thoroughly he’d stunned all of them, Hot Rod led the way back over to where he was playing and pointed to where he wanted Sideswipe to sit. He sat cross-legged on the ground without protest, careful not to spill the rest of the sparkling’s energon, which he had somehow managed not to make a mess of throughout the whole fiasco. Without pausing, Hot Rod quickly took the energon cube, clutching it to his chest plates with one servo while scooping up his red blocks and giving them to Sideswipe to hold with the other.
Behind them, the rest of the team quickly broke into quiet chatter, the most predominant being Strongarm’s frantic’s apologies to Bumblebee for “improper conduct” in front of a sparkling, and Fixit’s glitch-ridden exclamations of how “Hot Rod shouldn’t be old enough to know that many words!” Drawing in and releasing a deep vent, Sideswipe calmed himself enough to regain control, though he couldn’t completely squash the elation over the fact that Hot Rod was finally talking, earlier than they had thought, and his name was the second thing he’d said! Forcing himself to be serious for a moment, though, he focused back on Hot Rod, who was sorting out blocks by color on the ground.
“Hey, Roddy, can we talk for a minute?” The sparkling looked up and chirped, plopping another red block on his outstretched servo. “Yeah, ok, so, that word you said a couple minutes ago? The one Bumblebee asked you about? That’s kind of a grownup word, and only grownups are really, like, allowed to use it. And I promise you’re not in trouble! You just really can’t say that anymore, alright?” Hot Rod lifted an optic ridge, studying him intently and clearly processing, and thankfully, he didn’t look upset.
“Ok, Rod? No more saying that word?” Hot Rod stared at him for a second more, then, thank Primus, nodded and immediately crouched back down to pick up more blocks. Sideswipe let out a rush of air, slumping in relief. As long as Hot Rod actually listened, it seemed like the crisis was averted, and they wouldn’t have to deal with a swearing sparkling on their servos. That would definitely not look good on his record (Even if he wasn’t the one who taught him that. Take that, Strongarm!)
Sideswipe grinned. “You know, we’re never going to be able to tell anyone else about this, but someday I’m gonna have to tell you about how your first word was a swear word.” He poked the sparkling in a sensitive seam in his side, sending Hot Rod giggling. Feeling his spark flood with warmth at the bright burst of happiness from the little mech’s em field, Sideswipe basked in the feeling for a few seconds before he shook his servo, making the blocks in his grip clatter against each other. “But for now, though, how about we build the best and biggest tower ever!?”
Faceplates bursting into a beaming grin, Hot Rod trilled loudly, hugging his servo for a moment before pouncing on another block on the ground. He chirped and proudly held up the red painted piece of wood. “Si’es!”
“Yeah, that one does look like me, doesn’t it? It looks a little like you, too, because we kind of match. Isn’t that crazy?” He rubbed a servo over Hot Rod’s helm, just a slightly brighter shade of red than his own, and the sparkling preened, leaning into his touch as he chirred. After a moment, he gave another bright smile, took a few steps back, and plopped to the ground, reaching for blocks to start building again.
Leaning forward comfortably, Sideswipe watched Hot Rod fondly, still in disbelief that he had gotten so lucky that he had gotten the chance to look after this little one. And now, they were finally going to be able to talk! Getting to hear what the sparkling was thinking was going to be both fun and incredibly helpful, and Hot Rod was going to be able to understand him better, too. Although, maybe he actually already understood more than he let on….
Sideswipe couldn’t help the sly grin that snuck onto his faceplates, and he leaned closer to Hot Rod, handing him a block as he whispered conspiringly. “Alright, Roddy, since you’re gonna be getting pretty chatty soon, it’s time I teach you the most important things for you to be able to say. Let’s start with, ‘Sides is the very best, and Strongarm is a bossy wet blanket….’”