Playing With Kids Reflector

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Reflector looked over his shoulders in irritation at the trio of spy-planes. "Only on a technicality am I your mother. Do not call me that."

Runaround grinned and held up a camera-mantis drone. It chittered in his arms, and its legs wiggled as the camantid was held out over nothing. "Lookit what Scrapper made!"


Trigger held out his own activation-day gift: a finely crafted sniper rifle. "Commander Megatron commissioned this for me. He thinks I'm a very good shot."

Reflector nodded. "You are."

Trigger preened and subspaced his new rifle. He was developing quite a gun collection, and Reflector wondered if he would have to get expanded pockets soon to keep all of them.

Monitor carried an odd little pack that covered the front of his chest. He opened it, hauled out a blue cassette and tossed it to the ground. It transformed into a feline-transformer as it fell, landing on its feet. "She's from Soundwave. Her name's SCSI."

Reflector frowned. "You're not becoming a cassette-host."

Monitor nodded and held out his arms for the cassette-cat to jump into. She leapt and transformed, and he put her back in her carrying case. "I know, I know, Mum."

The camantid got unceremoniously dropped onto Runaround's shoulder and left to fend for itself in terms of staying attached to him. "Will you play cards with us, Mama?"


"Please!" Runaround dropped to his knees and clutched at one of Reflector's waists. His son had no shame, really. "You're just the best at the game, and no one is anywhere near as good as us back on Cybertron, and the dads won't play with us because we clean them out, and-!"


Runaround shut his mouth. Trigger opened his.

The camera raised a hand to forestall his words. "If you are especially good, and I survive this next mission."


Reflector shook his heads at the antics that produced. Jets.