I have apples on the brain incase you couldn't tell...
Title: Upsetting the Apple Cart
Rating: PG
Summary: An apple a day keeps the doctor away... but what about the medic?
“And just what did you do to that visor?”
The saboteur had the good graces to look a little sheepish. “Dropped it.”
Ratchet merely crossed his arms and glared.
“So you know Maggie Madison? The blond signal analyst? She has wicked aim as it happens.”
“Yes Jazz. I am familiar with Ms. Madison.”
Jazz grinned, despite Ratchet's get-on-with-it-you-nitwit! tone.
“Well her mum decided she could not possibly be eating properly on her own.
“She doesn't eat properly. The homo sapient body needs more then calories and sugar for proper fueling,” Ratchet huffed. His opinion on the food that most of the humans chose to consume was well known.
Jazz waved him off. “Anyways her mum sent her an entire crate of apples.”
“Apples?”
Jazz nodded eagerly. “So she opens this crate of apples of Malus domestica 'Scifresh'. And she looked pissed. Had this full rant on her mother not letting her live her own life. And Blue, not knowing better than to interrupt a woman in rant mode, asked her why her mother would send her apples of all things.”
He paused his grin only growing wider. When he say Ratchet was not going to respond, the grin slipped a bit. “So Maggie grabs one from the crate and marches up to Blue and indicates for him to bend over.”
Ratchet sighed. “And I assume he did?”
“She asked if getting human food in his intakes would hurt him. Blue can't lie. You know that. He really is too naïve some times. Maggie just shoved the apple down his intakes before he could react. He'll be in as soon as he finished reporting to Prowl about it, by the way.”
Ratchet groaned, fighting the urge to bury his head in his arms.
“Anyways Blue starts stuttering and the girl just shrugs and goes 'An apple a day keeps the doctor away, before she stalks back to the crate.”
“And what does this have to do with you?”
“So I'm there trying not to laugh, when Major Lennox's squad came back in. And before anyone knew what had happened they had all grabbed an apple and were heading off. And I might have said something about soldiers knowing how to appreciate food....”
“What did she do Jazz?”
“She screamed something about the apples being appropriately named and before I realized it she had nailed me in the side of my head with one.”
“That does not explain how your visor is cracked. A thrown projectile such as an apple is not enough to damage the crystal.”
“Give a mech a nanosec, I'm getting there. She hit me right at the connection point. It hurt ma mech, so I pulled it off to take a quick look. Mean while Blue starts laughing and it causes the apple in his intakes to start moving around, so he loses his balance at the 'really weird feeling' - Jazz punctuated those words with the hand motions for quotation marks - knocking over the crate as he falls. So BAM there are apples every where. And when he went to get back up, he squished some and then he was trying to avoid the rest and he knocks into me hard enough to make me fall, and well I hadn't put my visor back on and it kind of hit the hanger floor and well you can see the result.”
Ratchet covered his face with his palm. “You are telling me that you, the first lieutenant and head of Special Ops, managed to be knocked over and crack your visor because of a crate of apples?”
“Um yes? But they just weren't any apples!”
Ratchet stood to loom over the silver mech. “Please enlighten me,” he bit out.
“They're a type of apple known as the Jazz apple...”
Ratchet did not look mollified in the slightest. “You expect that to excuse you from getting hurt? Just what do you have to say for yourself Lieutenant?”
Jazz reached into his subspace pocket and held out a red and greenish-yellow object. “Apple?”
Rating: PG
Summary: An apple a day keeps the doctor away... but what about the medic?
“And just what did you do to that visor?”
The saboteur had the good graces to look a little sheepish. “Dropped it.”
Ratchet merely crossed his arms and glared.
“So you know Maggie Madison? The blond signal analyst? She has wicked aim as it happens.”
“Yes Jazz. I am familiar with Ms. Madison.”
Jazz grinned, despite Ratchet's get-on-with-it-you-nitwit! tone.
“Well her mum decided she could not possibly be eating properly on her own.
“She doesn't eat properly. The homo sapient body needs more then calories and sugar for proper fueling,” Ratchet huffed. His opinion on the food that most of the humans chose to consume was well known.
Jazz waved him off. “Anyways her mum sent her an entire crate of apples.”
“Apples?”
Jazz nodded eagerly. “So she opens this crate of apples of Malus domestica 'Scifresh'. And she looked pissed. Had this full rant on her mother not letting her live her own life. And Blue, not knowing better than to interrupt a woman in rant mode, asked her why her mother would send her apples of all things.”
He paused his grin only growing wider. When he say Ratchet was not going to respond, the grin slipped a bit. “So Maggie grabs one from the crate and marches up to Blue and indicates for him to bend over.”
Ratchet sighed. “And I assume he did?”
“She asked if getting human food in his intakes would hurt him. Blue can't lie. You know that. He really is too naïve some times. Maggie just shoved the apple down his intakes before he could react. He'll be in as soon as he finished reporting to Prowl about it, by the way.”
Ratchet groaned, fighting the urge to bury his head in his arms.
“Anyways Blue starts stuttering and the girl just shrugs and goes 'An apple a day keeps the doctor away, before she stalks back to the crate.”
“And what does this have to do with you?”
“So I'm there trying not to laugh, when Major Lennox's squad came back in. And before anyone knew what had happened they had all grabbed an apple and were heading off. And I might have said something about soldiers knowing how to appreciate food....”
“What did she do Jazz?”
“She screamed something about the apples being appropriately named and before I realized it she had nailed me in the side of my head with one.”
“That does not explain how your visor is cracked. A thrown projectile such as an apple is not enough to damage the crystal.”
“Give a mech a nanosec, I'm getting there. She hit me right at the connection point. It hurt ma mech, so I pulled it off to take a quick look. Mean while Blue starts laughing and it causes the apple in his intakes to start moving around, so he loses his balance at the 'really weird feeling' - Jazz punctuated those words with the hand motions for quotation marks - knocking over the crate as he falls. So BAM there are apples every where. And when he went to get back up, he squished some and then he was trying to avoid the rest and he knocks into me hard enough to make me fall, and well I hadn't put my visor back on and it kind of hit the hanger floor and well you can see the result.”
Ratchet covered his face with his palm. “You are telling me that you, the first lieutenant and head of Special Ops, managed to be knocked over and crack your visor because of a crate of apples?”
“Um yes? But they just weren't any apples!”
Ratchet stood to loom over the silver mech. “Please enlighten me,” he bit out.
“They're a type of apple known as the Jazz apple...”
Ratchet did not look mollified in the slightest. “You expect that to excuse you from getting hurt? Just what do you have to say for yourself Lieutenant?”
Jazz reached into his subspace pocket and held out a red and greenish-yellow object. “Apple?”