Bunny is (not)surprisingly tenacious.
Aug. 13th, 2009 04:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ante_luceTitle: ((Na.Da.))
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Characters: Optimus. Prowl. Ratchet. Twins.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
Something was different today. Something was UpTM, and after leading his Autobots for so long, Optimus knew that while he might not be sure of the details, he most certainly did not want to know them.
So he hid in his office.
He had a lot of work to do.
Or would, once Prowl arrived.
Speaking of whom, where was the mech? He couldn’t hide from the world if he didn’t have important datapads to go through. That it was extremely early in the morning, even earlier than when Prowl normally started his shift, didn’t mean a thing.
Ah, there was his SIC, looking startled that his Commanding Officer was already in before the Datsun had gotten a chance to leave the day’s reports on his desk.
“Morning, Prowl.”
“Good morning, sir.” The mech answered out of reflex, then approached him, looking concerned. “Is everything alright? Did something happen last night?”
“No, no. Just onlined and decided to come in early. Enjoy a peaceful office. I think this is the only time that’s possible.”
Prowl chuckled, placing his armful of reports on the table, sorting them efficiently as he replied. “That’s quite true. I’ll leave you to enjoy the moment now, Optimus. I believe you’ll need the memory of it after going through some of these reports.”
“Sideswipe?”
“Surprisingly, no.”
“Cliffjumper.”
“Also no.” His SIC was watching him with a little smile on his faceplates now, and the Prime gave in.
“Who then? We’ve enough troublemakers that I could spend hours guessing.”
“Swoop.”
Optimus blinked, and Prowl elaborated.
“He ran across some human pilots who weren’t familiar with us, and wanted to fly with them. They weren’t as keen. Wheeljack’s explained things to Swoop, but you’ll have to smooth things over with the humans.”
“Joy.”
The black and white mech chuckled again, then, in a move that shorted out a few of the Prime’s processors, gave him a hug, murmuring wordlessly in sympathy. Optimus stared as Prowl pulled away slowly, as if loath to cease the contact, smiled at him, then left the room. A sinking feeling filled his spark as he caught the lingering scent of something warm and indefinable, and slowly realised that whatever it was that’d driven him to seek refuge in his office, Prowl was at its epicentre.
Then Optimus Prime, Autobot Leader and Templar of the Matrix, picked up his datapads and bravely got on with his day.
From under his desk.
= = =
Ratchet growled as he circled his med bay, rearranging his tools and generally causing the remaining occupants of the room to flinch whenever he picked up a wrench. The doors slid open, and the red and white mech whirled ‘round to glare at the bot daring enough to brave his wrath. Prowl’s mild gaze completely derailed the medic’s building temper, and the CMO only pointed at the examination berth, deflating even more when the Datsun obediently climbed onto it. Sighing, Ratchet came to stand next to him.
“Let me guess. It’s started.”
“Yes. Hence my being in your med bay.”
“Primus. I suppose you know what will happen.”
“The files you directed me to were most informative. Thank you, Ratchet.”
“Hmph. I still need to make sure everything’s progressing normally.”
“I don’t suppose it will help if I say I feel fine?”
“That’s what you’d say if you were missing an arm and a door. So, no. Now hold still.”
Prowl held still, and the ambulance started up a myriad of scans and checks, muttering indistinctly to himself throughout. Sideswipe turned to his twin, optics curious. In a whisper (just because Ratchet was on the other side of the room didn’t mean they were safe, the medic’s aim was legendary for a reason), the red Lamborghini murmured to his brother.
“What’s up with Prowl? He’d never come in here for a mere check up.”
“Dunno. Maybe Ratchet found a threat that works on him?”
“Frag. Must be one Pit of a threat.”
“You two. Mute it, or I will mute you.”
“Yessir!”
Ratchet’s snarl worked immediately, and the pair settled for just watching and wondering as the mech finished his examination of their SIC. As the CMO moved away, nodding to the black and white mech, Prowl slid off the berth in a fluid motion, stretching out to relieve the strain of remaining immobile for so long.
Both twins froze as they took in the sight of the Datsun arching his frame, doors sweeping in smooth, leisurely movements. Then Prowl tilted his head aside, drawing their attention to the sleek neck cables he was slowly rubbing, and they followed the trail of his fingers as they moved down across his front, then came to rest on one pale grey thigh.
“You’re in as good a condition as you’re going to be.”
Ratchet’s voice cut through the haze that suddenly blanketed their processors, startling them into actually jolting upright. Neither chevroned mech seemed to notice, and the medic shooed the tactician out of the med bay, cautioning the Datsun about contacting him the moment something felt off.
As he walked by, Prowl momentarily glanced their way, nodding and saying their names in polite acknowledgement before leaving the room proper. They nodded back, suddenly unable to make a sound, optics trained on the black and white figure that vanished behind the med bay doors.
Eventually, Sideswipe managed to work his vocaliser again. “Sunny?”
“What?”
“I… gotta go find Bluestreak. And a room. Quickly, or the finding a room part is going to be pretty pointless.”
*runs back to work* I replies to comments later please *puppy optics*
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Characters: Optimus. Prowl. Ratchet. Twins.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
Something was different today. Something was UpTM, and after leading his Autobots for so long, Optimus knew that while he might not be sure of the details, he most certainly did not want to know them.
So he hid in his office.
He had a lot of work to do.
Or would, once Prowl arrived.
Speaking of whom, where was the mech? He couldn’t hide from the world if he didn’t have important datapads to go through. That it was extremely early in the morning, even earlier than when Prowl normally started his shift, didn’t mean a thing.
Ah, there was his SIC, looking startled that his Commanding Officer was already in before the Datsun had gotten a chance to leave the day’s reports on his desk.
“Morning, Prowl.”
“Good morning, sir.” The mech answered out of reflex, then approached him, looking concerned. “Is everything alright? Did something happen last night?”
“No, no. Just onlined and decided to come in early. Enjoy a peaceful office. I think this is the only time that’s possible.”
Prowl chuckled, placing his armful of reports on the table, sorting them efficiently as he replied. “That’s quite true. I’ll leave you to enjoy the moment now, Optimus. I believe you’ll need the memory of it after going through some of these reports.”
“Sideswipe?”
“Surprisingly, no.”
“Cliffjumper.”
“Also no.” His SIC was watching him with a little smile on his faceplates now, and the Prime gave in.
“Who then? We’ve enough troublemakers that I could spend hours guessing.”
“Swoop.”
Optimus blinked, and Prowl elaborated.
“He ran across some human pilots who weren’t familiar with us, and wanted to fly with them. They weren’t as keen. Wheeljack’s explained things to Swoop, but you’ll have to smooth things over with the humans.”
“Joy.”
The black and white mech chuckled again, then, in a move that shorted out a few of the Prime’s processors, gave him a hug, murmuring wordlessly in sympathy. Optimus stared as Prowl pulled away slowly, as if loath to cease the contact, smiled at him, then left the room. A sinking feeling filled his spark as he caught the lingering scent of something warm and indefinable, and slowly realised that whatever it was that’d driven him to seek refuge in his office, Prowl was at its epicentre.
Then Optimus Prime, Autobot Leader and Templar of the Matrix, picked up his datapads and bravely got on with his day.
From under his desk.
= = =
Ratchet growled as he circled his med bay, rearranging his tools and generally causing the remaining occupants of the room to flinch whenever he picked up a wrench. The doors slid open, and the red and white mech whirled ‘round to glare at the bot daring enough to brave his wrath. Prowl’s mild gaze completely derailed the medic’s building temper, and the CMO only pointed at the examination berth, deflating even more when the Datsun obediently climbed onto it. Sighing, Ratchet came to stand next to him.
“Let me guess. It’s started.”
“Yes. Hence my being in your med bay.”
“Primus. I suppose you know what will happen.”
“The files you directed me to were most informative. Thank you, Ratchet.”
“Hmph. I still need to make sure everything’s progressing normally.”
“I don’t suppose it will help if I say I feel fine?”
“That’s what you’d say if you were missing an arm and a door. So, no. Now hold still.”
Prowl held still, and the ambulance started up a myriad of scans and checks, muttering indistinctly to himself throughout. Sideswipe turned to his twin, optics curious. In a whisper (just because Ratchet was on the other side of the room didn’t mean they were safe, the medic’s aim was legendary for a reason), the red Lamborghini murmured to his brother.
“What’s up with Prowl? He’d never come in here for a mere check up.”
“Dunno. Maybe Ratchet found a threat that works on him?”
“Frag. Must be one Pit of a threat.”
“You two. Mute it, or I will mute you.”
“Yessir!”
Ratchet’s snarl worked immediately, and the pair settled for just watching and wondering as the mech finished his examination of their SIC. As the CMO moved away, nodding to the black and white mech, Prowl slid off the berth in a fluid motion, stretching out to relieve the strain of remaining immobile for so long.
Both twins froze as they took in the sight of the Datsun arching his frame, doors sweeping in smooth, leisurely movements. Then Prowl tilted his head aside, drawing their attention to the sleek neck cables he was slowly rubbing, and they followed the trail of his fingers as they moved down across his front, then came to rest on one pale grey thigh.
“You’re in as good a condition as you’re going to be.”
Ratchet’s voice cut through the haze that suddenly blanketed their processors, startling them into actually jolting upright. Neither chevroned mech seemed to notice, and the medic shooed the tactician out of the med bay, cautioning the Datsun about contacting him the moment something felt off.
As he walked by, Prowl momentarily glanced their way, nodding and saying their names in polite acknowledgement before leaving the room proper. They nodded back, suddenly unable to make a sound, optics trained on the black and white figure that vanished behind the med bay doors.
Eventually, Sideswipe managed to work his vocaliser again. “Sunny?”
“What?”
“I… gotta go find Bluestreak. And a room. Quickly, or the finding a room part is going to be pretty pointless.”
*runs back to work* I replies to comments later please *puppy optics*
