TF-'verse. Nellis AF base. Moving in

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Starforge looks up from where he's building a bunk in one of the spare rooms of what will be he and Arcee's new quarters. "Hunter! Knock it off. Now."

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Starforge points at the mess, his expression stern. "What is this?"

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"I... I cleaned it all up...," he said, shrugging. Then he looked and sighed. "I'll clean it again," he sulked, getting up and then blinking and the squished boxes. "Um...."

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"...." Starforge stares at the foam peanuts stuck all over the sparkling's shell with static, then facepalms. "Good grief. And the vacuum's still in pieces."

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"I can still put them away, dad, I'll just roll in them and jump into the recylcer," he beamed.

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"Oh no you won't!" comes the alarmed and firm response. "Yer not gettin' in that thing."

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"Not when it's on, duh," he giggled. "I'm not stupid, dad."

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"Ya ain't gettin' in it period! I hear ya have 'n I'll hand out penalties."

He's not sure what kind, but he knows he can find something appropriate.

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Sunhunter blinked, then sighed.

"Alright," he said. "I promise I won't go in there. And I won't let Startracker, either."

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"That reminds me. What's the big idea, pickin' on yer brother?" asks Starforge as he frowns down at the mess of crumbled and flattened and static charged peanuts.

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Sunhunter blinked. "Pickin' on him? I don't pick on him," he protested.

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"If it upsets somebody it's pickin' on," says his father firmly. "Even yer granddad's noticed."

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That made Sunhunter blink.

"Grandpa doesn't even like him that much," he said, shrugging. "And I just tell the truth. Startracker acts like a baby, he doesn't even say anything back!"