“On the first day of Christmas my Starscream gave to me...Slipstream in a tall tree.” Ratchet reached up and wiggled his fingers until Slipstream giggled and hopped into his arms. Just how the grounder got into the tree didn’t matter.
“On the second day of Christmas my Starscream gave to me...Two little seekers and a Slipstream in a tall tree.” Ratchet scooped up Arcus and First Response into his arm. He tickled them both at the base of the wings, and tiny pedes kicked as vocalizers screeched with joy.
“On the third day of Christmas my Starscream gave to me a third little flier, two little seekers and Slipstream in a tall tree.” Ratchet set the three into the berth before picking up Cloudsong. He tossed the shuttle into the air with a grunt, and held the shuttle close when someone cleared their vocalizer from the door,
“On the fourth day of Christmas, your Starscream gave to you one tiny ambulance.” Starscream walked in, hips swaying, Guilding Light in his arms.
Ratchet set Cloudsong down and took the last bitlet from Starscream’s arm, putting him down. All sparklings in bed, tired, tucked in, Ratchet leaned over and gave each a kiss on the forehead.
“That’s a silly song,” Starscream said with a scoff, but he leaned over. A kiss for each bitlet from him as well, and he took Ratchet’s hand. They dimmed the light as they went, and left the door open a crack.
“It’s festive. The humans sang it.” Ratchet shrugged as he and Starscream walked down the hall, hands swinging.
“What’s the next line?”
“The next one is ‘on the fifth day of Christmas my true love gave to me-”
Starscrea pulled them to a stop and covered Ratchet’s mouth with a finger. “Five overloads.”
They stared at each other a few long moments before Ratchet kissed Starscream’s finger. “I like your version better.”
“I thought you would.”
