Life of a Quintesson

Part 17.

I had entered my new washroom while carrying the newborn Predacon, the door closing behind me. She seemed quiet up until this point, but the moment I sat her on the countertop she began to spout gibberish and look around. I was going to prepare an oil bath for her then give her a proper polishing afterwards. I began the bath and turned back to see her holding the polisher, swinging it around like it were a toy and giggling.

"No no, little one. That isn't a toy, it is a polisher." I gently took it from her.

Her ears drooped and she looked upset, whining and reaching for it. I had to keep it out of her reach as she kept trying to grab it, so much so she nearly fell off the counter. I set the polisher aside and picked her up, petting her helm. Her upset expression quickly melted away and she began to purr, closing her optics with a little smile. Raising a Predacon doesn't seem very challenging, perhaps it will get easier from here on out.

Once the oil bath was ready, I set her down into the bath to which she warbled. She looked at the oil she sat in, making slow movements. At first. The Predacon watched how the oil rippled around her and she giggled as I began to gently wash her off. She started splashing the oil onto the walls and onto me, giggling hysterically.

"Little one, could you please not splash?"

The sparkling only stared at me, then proceeded to splash oil into my face. I shut my optics and heard her giggling even more, opening my optics to see her applauding and smiling.

"You think this is funny, don't you?" I ask.

The Predacon just kept giggling and went to splash me again, but I quickly caught her servos before she could. She gave a "rawr" and went to bite my digits, forcing me to let go. She proceeded to squeal and smile, then stopped and sniffled. The sparkling didn't look like she was going to cry, this was something else. She suddenly sneezed, a short burst of a bright blue fire coming out of her mouth.

"Whoa!"

I quickly got of her line of fire, literally, before my face was scorched. Fire breath? Fascinating. The Predacon sniffled once again and rubbed her nose, then right back to her giggling. I smiled and pat her helm.

"You're a very interesting little femme, you know that? Now let's get you cleaned up."

Easier said than done. The sparkling continued to splash oil onto me and the walls, making a bigger mess than she did in the laboratory. That was an exaggeration, the laboratory floor covered in synthetic fluids is far worse. She refused to stay still and kept attempting to either crawl or fly out of the oil bath, but fortunately she was clean after all the trouble. I was panting after using half of my strength to keep up with her, my old joints aren't meant for this kind of punishment.

Lifting the clean Predacon out of the bath, I grabbed the polisher and started to polish her armor. Her ears stood on end and she calmed RIGHT down, purring loudly and smiling as I gently used it on her back. She enjoyed it so much she began to slip into recharge, I chuckled and continued to make the sparkling shine. By the time I was done, she was out cold and lightly snoring. Undertaker was right, she is precious.

I carefully picked her up in attempt to not awaken her, after drying myself off of course, and carried her toward her room. Upon entering, I walked over to her berth with bars. Undertaker said it was called a 'crib' and that it was used for sparklings to sleep in. I gently laid her down into it with some 'plushs' Undertaker had gotten her beforehand. The moment she was laid down she whined and felt around for something, her clawed servo touching one of the plushs. She purred and pulled the toy close to her, hugging it and curling up.

With a smile I turned and left the room, now it was my turn to clean up.

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