A little spark to heart

[1st_aid_kit]

*First Aid holds tightly onto the fur at Ratchet's shoulder, trying his hardest not to fall. Normally he was supposed to be this height...so why did everything seem so big all of a sudden? Now he knows what it's like for their human friends whenever they have to hitch a ride on someone's shoulders. He smiles a little to himself as they enter the

Comments

[l33tmedic]

Busy, on an' off, yeah. Most'a the mess I got involved in is actually in a secured section of the labs. We'll have more time for clean up later, though. As is, we're not quite done yet, either. First Gunner came back from Dinobot Island, possessed by the spark of a Maximal who Rhinox claims is 'sposed to be dead. Gotta get that out...

*Rather than staying in the main medbay room, however, Ratchet turns towards his office and opens the door, heading inside and shutting the door in his wake. The office has seen better times as well. Finch's tarp is half spread across the floor, there are datapads piled on Ratchet's desks, rolls of paper schematics leaned on the walls and sitting on the floor. Taking First Aid from his shoulder, the CMO drops the human off on his desk before taking the chair.*

...an' I still haven't taken my chair back, either. *He smirks.* I'll hafta do that before you change back, I suppose.

[1st_aid_kit]

Busy, on an' off, yeah...

*He blinks in surprise. Busy was a bit of an understatement.* Do you need any help? Er...well...any help that someone small can give? Not doing too much heavy lifting these days. ^_^;;

*Once he's on the desk, First Aid looks over to the strewn datapads, choosing a stack of them for him to sit on. At the mention of the chair, he has the good graces to flush a little.* Um..yeah, about that. I was just keeping it safe until you got back from your mission in Peru. Wouldn't want anything to happen to it after all...

.oO(Curses! Foiled again!)

[l33tmedic]

Yeah, because chairs have a tendency to, ya know, take off on their own while their owners are away. As for helpin'... We'll have to see how things go. Trouble is, I've had my fun. But the bigger problem of Skids missin' is still on our shoulders and I don't think anyone quite knows what to do about it.

*Opening up his desk drawer, he pulls out a flask of high-grade. Taking that in one hand, he uses the other to take out a small box and set it on the desktop. He flips open the top with one finger to reveal a few six packs of soda, some bottled waters and other human supplies made to last a while.*

...because there were points Sparkplug and I would take hours at a time sittin' an' glitchin' about bad days in medbay. He never left his own "high-grade" in here if ya know what I mean, as he did indulge every so often, but he ain't here now to get into the rest of it.

[1st_aid_kit]

Yeah, because chairs have a tendency to, ya know, take off on their own while their owners are away.

Well there are some pretty unsavory types around here and I know how much you love that chair. It would be a shame to have anything happen to it.

*He stands up to look into the box, finally picking out a bottle of water. He remembered hearing somewhere that humans needed quite a bit of it to remain functioning.* Thanks.

*As he goes to sit back down, he frowns in thought.* Skids still missing, strangers appearing, humans being changed...what else has happened? From the sound of it, things have only gotten worse since this all started. Have you learned anything on how to stop it or reverse it?

[1st_aid_kit]

((movin' it on over!))

Optimism... Somethin' you've always been good at.

[q] Not so hard really if there isn't another option. Besides, *his voice turns to a slightly more joking tone* It helps balance us out. We don't want to frighten away all our regular customers. But you're right. Lives are lives. It wouldn't feel right if I wasn't doing something to help.

*First Aid is silent for a while, not sure how to word this, or if he even wants to. Ratchet could take his crosses away for being so irresponsible. He should. Stealing from an officer, leaving the medbay unmanned, intoxicated on duty... He can't help but grimace, but he knows it has to come out anyway. Better he do the telling than Finch or Wheeljack or someone else.* It's not that, sir...It's... When you left to go to Peru, you left me in charge of the medbay. I know you said I was ready, but I didn't feel ready. I was...afraid. There were so many things that could have gone wrong and I couldn't help but think that if something happened, if someone came in and I couldn't

[l33tmedic]

*Ratchet taps on finger on the desktop, mulling that information over in silence. When he does finally speak again, it's actually preceeded by a light bit of chucklingWell, 'Aid... I admit that if you weren't a human sitting on my desk right now, I'd be half tempted to knock you upside the back of your head for that. But...it's happened so long ago, there's no point. And judging from how you are now, you actually learned something from it...unlike this cranky old mech, who got swatted and reprimanded dozens of times by his mentor for getting trashed far too often. I haven't built up a high tolerance for high-grade by NOT drinking it most of my life. I partied hard through a good portion of my time at the academy and paid for it with a lot of cranial aches, detentions and extra work on the side

[1st_aid_kit]

*At the tap to his chest he looks up, eyes wide with surprise. Ratchet... wasn't going to kill him? Wasn't going to take his crosses? He wasn't even going to rant and yell and throw things? ...Who was he and what did he do to his boss?*

I uh...yes, Ratchet. And of course I'll replace what I took, whatever you want. From the ache I had the next morning, I doubt I'll be even thinking of doing it for a long time. *He smiles a little sheepishly, feeling the weight lifting off his shoulders.* So when I'm back to normal, first few rounds are on me, alright?

*Despite himself, the younger medic yawns, the long day catching up with him.* Heh, but not till then. I'm afraid this new body tires out quickly.

[l33tmedic]

You know I won't argue with you about buyin' the drinks. Heh. An' you're not the only one who's worn out. I usually don't get tired so easily, but with this place being the constant nuthouse it is, now...forget it. I'm gettin' too old for this slag.

*Gaining his feet, Ratchet takes a moment to pick up about his office a bit before regathering the tarp in Finch's usual corner.* Seein' as how I loaned out my room to one of our guests, however, I'm gonna be crashin' in here for the next few hours. I probably oughta let you out so you can figure out what you're gonna do about getting some down time.