(Untitled)

[milkbonesoldier]

Wells is positive that when Andrew goes to the Council, he's going to come back with information that can only lead to battle. It's been a while since he's fought anything more dangerous than his monthly full moon prey, so he's been putting himself to as much of an adaptative test as he can. Werewolves heal right back when they hurt themselves,

Comments

[autocommander]

There is a somewhat mildly foliaged robot at a table.

"Sergeant Wells," Optimus says somewhat grimly, "I need to speak to you at your convenience.'

[milkbonesoldier]

Wells winces, and comes to a stop immediately. Prime has his full attention."I'm listening," he says. "What happened?"

[autocommander]

Optimus leans over to one of the rats. "Please put the Sergeant's orders for the evening on my tab." Then he turns back to Wells.

"A person who was dressed in medical scrubs, with a stethoscope, was trying to speak to Spoon. It... didn't go well. He began to lose his temper. I tried to intervene; he asked me to take out outside and I did so, getting him as far away from the doors of the bar as I could. I think he's still out there."

He picks some leaves out of his chest. "I tried to follow him, but in his other mode, he's considerably faster than I on the wooded terrain. But no one was hurt."

[milkbonesoldier]

"Oh, for fuck's sake... I'm gonna have to post warnings about this. The Bar staff knows about Spoon's issues. thought the other patrons'd have the sense to sodding well back off if he started getting angry." He shakes his head. "Thank you. I appreciate the intervention. I expect Spoon does, too- and he'll say as much once he's in his right mind again."

[autocommander]

"If you'd like, I can give Ironhide and Bumblebee information on the signs of him having another problem, in case I'm not here. I don't want to do it without your permission - or his - but since we're nonorganic, it might be helpful. We're easier to repair, as well, if something goes wrong."

Prime nods, slowly. "I felt you should know as soon as possible."

[milkbonesoldier]

"Permission granted," says Wells. "Worst comes to worst, if you can't get at him in time, you've got my permission to ask the Bar for the tranquiliser rifles I gave 'em in case Spoon lost his shit completely."

Bloody fucking hell this was not what he wanted to hear today.

"I'd better go and find him, unless there's something else."

He'll find a way to thank the Autobot leader later.

[autocommander]

"Nothing else, Sergeant. I just thought you should know about this." Prime nods, solemnly. "We'll keep an eye on him when we're here. He's a good man inside."

[milkbonesoldier]

"Yeah, he is," says Wells. "Always has been."

But then, he'd say that about any of his lads.

"Thanks again, mate. I'll let you know how it goes once it's all settled."

He tosses off a salute and heads for the back door at a run.

[there_is_a_me]

By the time he finds Spoon (general direction: away from not-prey), Spoon has managed to force himself back into human form. His hair is a mess (the beads are all back by the lake. With his boots, the key to the TARDIS, and the remnants of his trousers), and he's looking...

well, rather like expected, really. Equal parts grumpy and ashamed, with an edge of oh, thank God akin to someone finally having taken a cast off.

[milkbonesoldier]

Yeah, Wells did some sniffing and managed to track down Spoon's stuff first, based mostly on the trail of mechanical additives to Spoon's smell. So he's got an armload as he approaches. "Oi, Spooney," he calls, "got a pile of your shit here. You all right in there?"

[there_is_a_me]

"No." Spoon says, "Did you find all me beads? The rest...except for the key, I'll have to grovel for that, can be replaced." Or re-found, if someone took his boots. "Bloody stupid doctor."

[milkbonesoldier]

"No fucking clue. How many of the damn things did you have?" He does, however, hold up an improvised sling (the shirt did for the job) and rattles the beads for Spoon to hear. "Christ Almighty. Which one of 'em was it? I'll paste his fucking arse, so help me-"

[there_is_a_me]

"...Uh. Sixty or so? More than one bead per braid, and I've got a lot of hair." Tangled, muddy, curly hair. Damn it. "De Silva. Fuckin' arse wouldn't take I am close to flashing back and you are not good for me mental health as cue to let me out the fuckin' door."

Then, shamefully, "I tried to get out. Couldn't do it alone."

[milkbonesoldier]

"Shit. Well, I got everything shiny I could find, might be some still in the mud..." He shakes his head and holds out the shirt. "Count 'em yourself. And put on some pants, I made sure I got those."

"Aaah, it's all right, you did as much as you had it in you to do. Y'couldn't've picked a better sort to lose it around, anyway. I met Prime before I came out here. He said he'd put his own lads on alert so's they'd know what they were looking at if things started to go pear-shaped around you again."

[there_is_a_me]

Spoon puts the pants on, then starts counting. He's good at counting these things, so it doesn't take long, "...56, 57, 58, 59...Missing one. I'll find it later. Get a metal detector from Ace. I'm really fuckin' grateful to Prime, I am. Fuckin' hell, da'. It's got to be soon, please let it be soon."

[milkbonesoldier]

"It'll be soon, Spooney," Wells mutters. "It'll be soon if I've got to punt Andrew's arse out the fucking door meself. I don't know what else he's got left to plan out but it's not worth this shit."