~~~

        “Optimus, you don’t understand,” IronHide insisted, watching the Prime. “It’s my responsibility. I’m the reason we’re in this predicament in the first place, as far as the blame of the Autobot’s goes, anyway. Aside from the blame placed on the ‘Cons for messing around with these things, it’s my fault. I should be the one punished for this. Let me do my part. We know they’ll be coming for her, so why not have a team protect her in plain sight?”

        “What are you suggesting, IronHide?” The Prime questioned, raising an optic ridge at the weapon specialist’s insinuation. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the way IronHide spoke. It wasn’t like him to volunteer for such a mundane mission. It was, however, like him to take responsibility for something he felt he’d done wrong. Blowing up planets? He didn’t have a problem so long as they were dead planets. Giving the Decepticons any kind of leeway in the war? That he had a problem with. And he was willing to take responsibility for it.

        “We have holoforms. We may as well use them for something worthwhile, Prime,” IronHide insisted, calm though the issue was pressing as they discussed these things. They wouldn’t have much time. “She needs protection if we’re to have any chance of turning this in our favor. She’s hardwired to be one of them. We need to get there soon. We’ve waited long enough.”

        “I still believe Jazz is the best choice to keep an eye on her close up, IronHide. While I do not doubt your ability to protect her or anyone else, you do not have the temperament to deal with her as she has been rendered. We need someone who can keep calm in various situations, and Jazz-.” Optimus didn’t get to finish.

        “Prime,” IronHide started, a bit irritated, though he restrained himself. “This is why I’m suggesting a team. Myself, Chromia, and Jazz. How can I get much safer than that? We’ll take up aliases, use our holoforms for the most part. No one will bat an optic, or whatever this odd species has, and she’ll be safer than she would be with one of us trailing her constantly. More so, we won’t even raise suspicion from her. I messed up, Optimus. Let me do something about it.”

        The Prime vented slowly, watching the weapons master with care before responding. “IronHide, I cannot send you into this if you’re going to wind up resentful and bitter towards the subject involved. Can I trust you won’t become frustrated and direct it towards her?”

        Truthfully, IronHide wasn’t sure. He knew one thing for certain, and that was that he’d made a mistake. He had to right a wrong. That was his motivation. Even if it would be a droll task for most of the time that he was involved with it, it would have it’s moments when the Decepticons would attempt to find her. And then, if nothing else, he could take out his frustrations by teaching some unlucky drone a lesson.

        “It doesn’t matter, Optimus. She needs protection and we’ve waited too long. We have a chance to alter her programming. Let’s not waste it.”

        ~~~

        “Can I help you?” IronHide frowned as the twenty-somethings couple answered the door, looking up at his bright blue eyes set within his holoform’s ‘skull’. This was the home closest to where the femme’s pod had landed. And she was obviously not inside. It had opened in the crash, and this house was the only one close enough to reach it and return in such a short time span, as well as one of the few in the area that would be able to see where she’d landed.

        “Where is the femme?” He demanded, watching them with an unwavering glare. That femme, that being, that thing, was here somewhere. He knew she was. And these two were protecting her, or hiding her, at the very least hindering him as they stood at the doorway, probably assuming he was some government official. “I know you have her.”

        “Tori, go to the bomb shelter,” the man spoke, his dark brown hair and pale blue eyes a stark contrast. He continued to stand in the doorway, blocking IronHide’s path. That was his first mistake, second, if you counted his opening the door in the first place. The man wasn’t small, he was about average weight and height, but IronHide was well above both categories. He was tall and muscular, and no human male could match his holoform.

        With a huff, IronHide pushed him aside and strode into their simple country home, eyes roving around the space, searching for the woman referred to as ‘Tori’. He’d spotted her, about the time the man had come back, jumping onto IronHide’s back as he attempted to slow his path. “Go, Tori!”

        “Harvey, no!” She clutched a blanket-wrapped bundle in her arms, staring at the pair, and how, despite her lover’s efforts, IronHide threw him off again, as well as he could without causing serious damage.

        “The girl,” IronHide demanded, looking to the woman with mousy brown hair and green eyes.

        “Mommy . . . ?”

        “Who’s that . . . ?” Two girls had appeared from a doorway, one about seven, the other about five, both staring at the intruder, glancing at their mother every so often.

        “Go hide, girls!” She winced when her voice caused the child in her arms to stir, her lungs filling a moment before she began to wail loudly, making her presence all the more obvious. The two paused a moment, glancing at IronHide’s holoform again before taking off down a hallway.

        “Just give me the girl, slag it,” IronHide muttered, taking a step towards the woman, pushing her husband away when he charged again. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, but if you refuse to give me a choice, I will. Now hand over the child.”

        The woman shook her head fiercely, holding the baby closer, even as she began to cry louder. “Sh-she’s ours!”

        IronHide frowned, stepping closer, sighing as the woman backed herself against the wall before he took the small child from the woman’s arms, attempting to be careful but her grip didn’t make it the easiest task. Tori began to cry as the small child was wrenched from her arms. “She doesn’t belong with you,” IronHide told her plainly. “She’ll be safe with us. She needs more protection than you could give.” He held the girl as he stalked out of the room, heading out the door of the house. ‘Tori’ gave him a few more words to think about before he was completely out of earshot, however.

        “Well, she needs more love than you could ever give!” She screamed, a fit of sobs following her words.

        ~~~

        Their newfound ‘team’ had finally moved into the approved home and were situated comfortably. IronHide had distanced himself a fair amount from the small girl, child, that had already kept him up several nights now with her screams and cries. His patience was wearing thin with her. What was wrong with that thing? He groaned as the noises she often made started up again from the other room.

        “Oh, ‘Hide,” Chromia chided, her holoform walking gracefully from the room as she picked up the small girl and carried her back to the kitchen, rocking her back and forth until she ceased her sounds of discomfort. “Isn’t she cute? Just like a sparkling.” The mech rolled his eyes at his mate’s affinity for the small fleshy being. Chromia nearly slapped him for such an annoyed gesture. “Oh, come now! We need to think of a name sometime soon, anyway,” she included, sitting down. “Not just for her, but for ourselves, too. We can’t exactly walk around as ‘Chromia, IronHide and Jazz’. It may raise some questions.”

        IronHide shook his head lightly in disbelief, hating that he’d volunteered for this right about now, but knew it was his self-inflicted punishment. He had to make up for his mistakes, and this was the way to go about it. “All right,” he conceded. “What do you have in mind?”

        “Yeah, Chrome, what’s on the menu?” Jazz asked as he waltzed into the room, sitting down at the table, looking very much so the image of teenage boy. That was their cover, after all. IronHide was the ‘father’, Chromia the ‘mother’, and Jazz their ‘first child’. It was the best cover they had for all of them being involved in the small girl’s life.

        Chromia smiled, shrugging as she bounced the child carefully in her arms. “Well, I suppose we should keep names closer to our normal names, so that we could adjust to them with a bit more ease. Anything you have in mind already? I’m thinking perhaps . . . ‘Faun’ or . . . ‘Farrah’ for her . . . I mean, she was intended to be named ‘FarLust’ by the Decepticons, correct? She’ll probably respond better to something that’s closer to that, then.”

        “Farrah it is, then! I don’t think we’ll get much closer than that, Chrome. And I don’t feel much like doing a whole lot of research to see if there is. Let’s just stick with what we’ve got,” Jazz agreed, as much with Chromia as with himself. “I think I’ll go with . . .” He paused, his processors searching a few different databases. “Jaxson! With an ‘X’. Then I’ll be Jax. It’ll be like nothing changed.” He propped his feet up on the table, leaning back in his chair. Chromia rolled her eyes and did her best to ignore him. While she might be his ‘mother’ to the human world, she wasn’t about to scold an officer of higher rank. “What about you, Chrome?”

        With a shrug, Chromia gave a moment’s thought. “I believe I’ll go with Cynthia. It’s reasonable enough, close enough, that it wouldn’t be much of an issue. I believe it’ll be just fine that way. What about you, ‘Hide? Is there a particular name you have in mind for your alias as long as we’re in this position? Perhaps Ian? Or Ivan?”

        IronHide didn’t dwell on it long before shaking his helm and handing her an answer. One he hoped wouldn’t be a mistake. “Harvey.”

        ~~~

        They were six months into this ‘mission’, and to ‘Harvey’, it was a total joke. They hadn’t had any kinds of threats as of yet. The most dangerous thing they’d had to deal with was changing the femme’s diapers. They’d agreed on the remainder of issues as far as what remained. They would go by the surname ‘Meadows’. IronHide had honestly laughed, though a bit bitterly, at the fact that the femme’s name was now likened to ‘Fair Meadows’. He thought it was ridiculous, and had earned himself disapproving looks from both his spark mate and the Lieutenant.

        He’d told Optimus he’d wanted this mission, told him he could handle it, but he was starting to question himself.

        The crying was starting up again. It was the early hours of morning, and Farrah had this awful habit of waking up at the same time every morning. She also had this terrible thing with her eyes -- they were half red and half blue, both colors clashing in vibrant shades within her irises.

        Cynthia slid from the bed, rubbing her eyes as her recharge was interrupted and she slipped into Farrah’s room, picking the girl up in her arms, rocking her gently, feeding her and changing her before taking her back to their bedroom, sitting on the bed with the now content Fay, smiling as she made small noises of contentment.

        “Isn’t she just the sweetest thing, ‘Hide . . . ?”

        “Be sweeter if she’d be quiet,” he muttered back bitterly. Chromia’s head whipped around and glared at him.

        “IronHide! What is wrong with you? She’s happy.”

        “She’s a burden,” he shot back, and Cynthia’s frown deepened.

        “IronHide . . .” She groaned, shaking her head. “You volunteered for this, insisted upon it, and yet . . . You keep acting like you’ve been cursed. What’s the problem?”

        “There is no problem,” IronHide told her, sitting up, knowing full well she could feel his lie within her spark. Knowing full well she could feel that a part of him kind of despised this child. With a sigh, Chromia forced the tiny girl now called ‘Fay’ into his arms securely. She waited for only a second before she left the room, closing the door behind her. IronHide would’ve attempted to call after her, but knew exactly what she was doing. She was forcing him to hold their pretend child in an attempt to make them bond.

        The large mech huffed. How demeaning. “Troublesome femme,” he muttered, staring down at her. This had been the Decepticon’s weapon? Perhaps once upon a time she had something to fear or watch out for, but now she was a babbling, drooling mess with no control of her bladder. She cooed and gooed and made all sorts of odd noises he wasn’t used to hearing. Gurgles and spurts, unintelligible dialect that probably didn’t even make sense to her.

        “You don’t even know what it is you’re saying, do you?” She giggled madly for a moment before reaching for her foot, bringing it up to her mouth and sucking on her toes. IronHide raised a brow, and Fay paused a moment, studying him, her head tilting to the side. He gave the slightest smile as he watched her, bringing his face closer to hers, knowing full well she was an odd child. She would do odd things a normal sparkling wouldn’t. Because she wasn’t a normal sparkling. She would never be a normal sparkling. And that meant she would need additional care and protection. She would need a guiding hand, training-.

        “Ow!” He pulled his face away from hers, rubbing his jaw. It was an exaggeration, of course. Her kick hadn’t hurt that bad, but she’d taken him by surprise and he didn’t expect anything of the sort from her. At least not yet. Okay, so maybe training would go a bit smoother than originally anticipated, but plenty of other things had to be done.

        In reality, her needs were very similar to those of the average sparkling’s, but she was different in her size, her vulnerability. He groaned as he lowered his hand, shaking his head and closing his eyes. “What have I gotten myself into . . .?” He questioned his decision. Perhaps, while he had messed up, this may have been too much for him to take on. Too much to deal with.

        At least, that’s what he thought until Fay grabbed one of his fingers, holding it with both her hands, cooing and gurgling as she tightened and loosened her grip, though she refused to truly let go. She kept laughing, like this were somehow the most amusing thing to happen to her. She pushed his hand away and pulled it closer until she wore herself out, falling back asleep, still holding his finger, his hand resting against her small body, his arm holding the rest of her close.

        “She needs more love than you could ever give!”

        Maybe that was true. But he was willing to try for her, even though he’d never let on to the Prime.

        ~~~

        “Harvey!” Chromia exclaimed. “Jaxson!” The trio had gotten into the habit of calling each other by their human names. It was something they’d developed to avoid slip-ups in public, and it had been working quite well. “Get over here!” It took only a few moments before the pair had rushed into the carpeted living room, finding Cynthia with Fay.

        The small girl was standing. Her legs were wobbly and she struggled to keep herself up, but Cynthia frequently readjusted the young toddler to keep her upright. “She’s standing,” Cynthia said with a smile, though it was fairly obvious why she’d called them over. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

        Another bonus was that Fay’s eyes were getting a bit more blue inside them, pushing back the red. The Autobots had taken that as a blessing.

        Fay gnawed at her knuckles, looking at the trio that were so intent on watching her, though she couldn’t figure out why for the life of her. Their stares just confused her. She couldn’t imagine what their deal was. The small girl just blinked and leaned forward slightly, her leg jerking out in front of her on instinct. Cynthia, Harvey and Jaxson smiled. Cynthia’s arms reached out, ready to catch Fay should, or more so, when, her balance failed. It took another step before Fay lost her control and began to topple over, but Cynthia’s arms were quick to catch her.

        Cynthia immediately plucked Fay up and held her close. “Oh, who’s a good little girl? Who’s so strong and brave? That’s right! You are! Just like Daddy! Just like Dada! Can you say that? Da-da?” Fay blinked and stared for a moment before attempting to mimic the sounds Cynthia had spoken, eventually ending up with some unintelligible that could be passed as ‘Dada’ by those who listened carefully, perhaps a bit too intently.

        Cyndi grinned and looked up at Harvey, who was attempting not to smile as he lowered his hand to Fay, and she quickly grabbed one of his fingers again, pulling at his hand, like it were somehow detachable, gurgling the noise that sounded remotely like ‘Dada’ again, and Harvey couldn’t help but let out a low chuckle.

        “I think she’s going to be a Daddy’s girl, ‘Hide . . .”