ben234

Bumblebee sat still on the repair table of the medbay, his arm held out ramrod straight as Ratchet repaired a few of the gashes and burn marks on the armor.  Beside him, curled up by the yellow thigh armor of the Camaro, the Sparkling of Optimus recharged peacefully, one tiny hand gripping the armor’s edge as if to make sure that Bumblebee wasn’t about to leave him.  The scout gently stroked the blue helm of his leader, unable to stop the smile that formed as the Sparkling clicked in his sleep “You never explained why Optimus is a Sparkling,” Bumblebee said softly, not wanting to disturb Optimus but desiring an answer. &