Tinman

Talks in the Shade and Shadows

A few weeks after the barn incident...

On the Lennox farm all was quiet. Will was gone for his Drill Week and ordered Ironhide to stay and watch over the girls in lieu of driving him to the base. At first the guardian's natural reaction was to protest but the soldier's insistence convinced him it was the wiser course of action. So for the first few days Will was absent, Ironhide guarded the house with even more intensity than he usually did. He paced the farmyard like a caged beast, becoming instantly alert if the slightest thing seemed amiss.

In the late summer sun, Ironhide's inner cooling systems were working double-time against the oppressive heat.

Why in the name of Primus had he chosen a black paint job? It caught heat like a Cybertronian solar panel!

He passed the garage for the twentieth time that afternoon, stealing a downward glance at his two charges in the front yard. Sara was watering her flowers, donning a large sunhat and shades. Nearby, Annabelle was stomping the grass to make the grasshoppers fly. When the bugs leaped with crackling wings, Sprinkles was right there to snag them out of the air. Annabelle giggled as the cat performed remarkable feats of aerial skill and then grossed out when the predator devoured her crunchy prizes.

The big Autobot turned and marched the other way until Sara's terse voice made him stop. "Ironhide, will you relax? You're making a trench in the driveway with that incessant pacing!"

He grumbled suddenly scanning a jet that was flying high in the clouds. Boeing 747—just a normal human jet.

Sara pointed across the dirt road to his favorite oak tree, "Why don't you go sit in the shade? You look like you're baking in your metal."

"I am fine." he insisted.

The woman ceased spraying her flowers, put a hand on her hip, and peered up at him from under the brim of her sunhat, "All right. Let me put it this way: You need to relax because you are driving me nuts!"

Stung, Ironhide squared his shoulders, "Oh REALLY?"

"Yes really. Go sit in the shade and relax!" she ordered firmly.

Out of habit, Ironhide rolled his left cannon but turned to do as she asked.

"Wait!" Annabelle called to him, running through the gate, "I wanna go too!"

The big black bot stopped and reached down to pick her up, but she dodged his hand and before he knew it she climbed on his foot and sat down.

"Go! Go!" the little girl commanded, bouncing on her bottom.

Ironhide cocked his head, "You want me to walk with you on my foot?"

She nodded, "Yeah! Go! Go!"

"That might not be safe Annabelle." he mentioned. Unlike some of his Autobot counterparts like Ratchet, Ironhide's feet were more open and splayed, rather than boot-like. This design exposed some of his weight bearing hydraulics and joints which were very dangerous for small limbs to be around.

"PLEASE!" she begged.

He thought a moment then knelt down, "Very well. But you'll have to sit here." Gently, he placed the child on a section of plating where she wouldn't be pinched or crushed by any of his intricate moving parts. Just to be extra careful he shifted some plating to cover up those areas.

"Now just hold onto this bar right here with both hands and don't move." he commanded, slowing rising. "Are you hanging on tight?"