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Ghosts	By : bleedingink Category: Transformers > G1 > Het - M/F Views: 2136 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, nor am I making a profit by writing this story.

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Ghosts V

*Kup. Hot Rod has returned... with others.*

*Others?*

*I suspect them to be of Prime's team.*

*Ah, well then... Let's greet them.*

*Yes, sir.*

Perceptor reached behind him to gently nudge the sleeping female. "Moonracer. It's time to go." With every attempt to pry her arms from his chassis, her grip tightened; "No... Five more minutes," came her sluggish reply. "We don't have five minutes." He turned and shoved her slighter frame from his own. Moonracer fell back with a gasp and suddenly realized how lovey-dovey she was becoming. Gross.

The microscope stood, situating the rifle onto his back. He glanced to the femme as he walked by, silently gesturing for her to follow. "I'm sorry about... earlier, heh." Her whispered words seemed to have fallen on deaf ears as he paused at the edge of the small Autobot gathering. Moonracer peered out from behind him and watched in awe as Ironhide confronted Chromia; he must've caught wind of Kup's "plan" - he would've found out sooner or later...

“What do you mean, had to?! Where is he? I’ll rip him to shreds!”

“Ironhide, please... Blaster was only following orders. I had no choice-”

“Had no choice?!”

That’s when Kup stepped in; “It was either that or those mutated bugs, Ironhide... Get over it!” The couple glared at one another before the larger Autobot stalked off, leaving a disheartened mate behind. The old commander gave an irritated snort and shifted his gaze to the female. “Look; before the product is ready to leave your chassis, I’ll have Ratchet terminate it. Simple.” Chromia gaped; “It isn’t simple, Kup!” She then noticed Blaster out of the corner of her vision. “It’s his hatchling as well... He, too, has a say in what happens.”

“And how will you explain to the hatchling that Ironhide isn’t the sire?”

“I won’t...”

Moonracer lowered her gaze and absently clung to the sniper from behind. She was grateful in not being involved beforehand. The thought of terminating her own unborn product sent an uneasy chill down her back strut, and, apparently, Perceptor felt it. “This is going to be a long night,” he murmured. The pale femme nodded and moved to start her way over to the group, the scientist following close behind.

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Moonracer's POV

Settled.

Finally.

It’s cold here, but... I guess it usually is with him around. He appears ever watchful of me, yet so arrogant and uncaring. I almost feel sorry for my product having a sire like Perceptor; but then again, it may turn out... all right in the end. I wish I could say the same for Chromia, though.

She and Ironhide got into it once we arrived...
It took several mechs to hold back the big lug before he went after Blaster, dishing all kinds of threats. And amongst the tension and rage, we - Perceptor and I - sat quietly in the corner, waiting and watching.

I look to him and all I could think of was...

“I have something that belongs to you.”

I barely registered his voice when he produced Elita’s package from subspace.

“Oh...”

I can’t believe I forgot it! I’m so sorry Elita...

“Thank you, Perceptor.”

“Don’t mention it.”

We sat there in silence as I gazed down at the package. I wanted to open it, but something told me to wait. I don’t know what it was. I don’t know how to explain it... “Perceptor? What’s going to happen after the hatchling arrives?” What if he rejects it? Will I end up having to raise this little guy (or girl) on my own?

“We will figure that out when it happens.”

“So... you don’t know if you’ll be there for it? Like a sire should?”

That’s when I was met with a hard glare.
I must’ve hit a nerve.

“I’m not doubting your ability to be a sire or anything! I just... A lot of us grew up without our sires around - either wanted nothing to do with us or became victims of the war. I want the new hatchlings to have something we didn’t, ya know?”

I tucked my head between my shoulders as I felt my spark do another one of those leaps, as if it would burst forth from my chest and ravish this mech beside me. “I think you’d be a great father.” I quickly realized my voice came out in more of a squeak, which embarrassed me even more. Ugh... What is wrong with me? Is it you, little one? Making me feel all mushy around your sire... Shame on you!

My lips curved into a little smile.
I was still looking down at the box...

I think... I’ll give my hatchling the package instead...

“I lost my sire to the war.”

Huh? Oh...

“I’m - I’m sorry for your loss...”

“Don’t be. He fought bravely. I am proud to have been his son.”

“Was he a scientist too?”

He nodded and parted his lips once more to speak; “I will... be there for our hatchling, Moonracer. I will protect you both to the best of my ability.” My optics widened, but I kept silent as he continued; “Products are usually conceived by a bonded couple. This would ensure the hatchling is brought up in a stable environment with attentive creators. These, however... Illegitimate. Most will grow up without knowing who their sires are...”

“Yea, I can’t begin to imagine how difficult it’ll be for Chromia and her offspring.”

“Yes, and I do not wish that of ours.”

“...where are you getting at, Perceptor?”

I knew there was a reason behind his sudden conversation.

“Bond with me.”

Product ~ the name of a newly formed spark and protoform; the Cybertronian equivalent of a fetus.
Hatchling ~ the name given to a young Cybertronian.
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Ghosts