Long Time Ahead: New Prompt
I've not written anything worth a crap for over a month. I should be ashamed but I'm not. I blame it on blockage.
Aaaanyway, I give thee this. Tis short and kinda silly. Part of the Ratchet/Ironhide ff100 Comm and posted on ffnet.
Title: The Question
Pairing: Ratchet/Ironhide
Summary: Sam has become very curious about an aspect of Cybertronian living but that doesn't mean he'll like the answers.
Word Count: 639
The Question
“How do you guys…you know…” Sam asked, waving his hands in an elaborate side to side gesture.
Ratchet gave the boy a quizzical look, crouching down to be closer to the boy‘s level.
“How do we what?”
Sam gestured again, “You know…”
“No, I’m afraid I don’t. Would you care to, perhaps, complete the question with verbiage as opposed to hand signals that have no real meaning?”
Sam groaned and tried various signals and words, none of which seemed to relay his true question. He was oddly embarrassed, something even the most oblivious of mechs on the base would have noticed, had they been present. Finally, he settled on nervous babbling.
“You know, doin’ the dirty, banging bolts, turning turbines, the horizontal polka…”
Ratchet paused and drew back slightly. “Sam, are you inquiring as to how we, as you humans say, ‘have sex’?”
“Yes!” he exclaimed, shoulders slumping in relief.
Ratchet regarded the teen with what appeared, to Sam at any rate, to be a very amused expression.
“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” he said, straightening up from his crouched position and walking towards the exit.
“Wait. What?” Sam said, sputtering. “Ratchet! Not cool, man!”
“If you want ‘cool’, go talk to Jazz. That’s more his department.”
Sam stalked after the medic. “C’mon! I’m curious. I mean, is it possible? What do you guys use anyway cuz my brain is comin’ up with some -weird- equipment here and-…wait. Did you just tell me to ask Jazz?”
“Your chances would be better.”
“He’ll tell me?”
“No.” Ratchet replied, flippantly.
“Awww.” Sam groaned, crossing his arms over his chest and glowering at the green mech.
“He’d try to demonstrate.”
“Yeah…WHAT?!”
“Not with -you-. Close your lower mandible before you injure it on the floor.” Ratchet said, continuing on his path, giving the boy nothing but a small glance and a quick wave of his hand.
“Why doesn‘t he just, you know, -tell- me?”
“Because he’s an exhibitionist at spark, I think. Sadistic glitch sometimes. He’d prefer demonstrating if you so much as mention the subject.”
“With -who-?”
“Who ever is handy. Which is why I’m making myself scarce.” Ratchet said, pausing at one of the numerous doors in the current hallway. Without him even knocking, the door slid open quietly and the medic stepped over the threshold.
“Have fun, Sam.” Ratchet said, just as the doors slid shut behind him, the indicator pad blinking ‘locked’ in bold red letters.
Sam huffed out an aggravated breath. He’d asked Bee, who told him to ask Prime, who told him to ask Ratchet, who told him to ask Jazz, who apparently preferred getting it on with an audience. And Ratchet, who he’d figured would actually -tell- him, had retreated to…
Ironhide’s room? What could he possibly want in ther-
The loud thump against the wall was the only precursor to the drawn out groaning that followed. Sam stepped closer, wondering if the two had gotten into another one of their infamous bouts of stubbornness. There was another groan, then a hiss, and a muffled ‘do that again’ in what sounded like a very pleading voice.
Sam’s eyes widened in realization. -That- was definitely not a fight. That was…
CRASH! *groan*
That was quite enough, thank you.
Sam turned and quickly headed back down the hallway, away from the locked room and back to the relevant safety of waiting for Bumblebee to return from his patrol.
He original question, however, had yet to be fully answered and already it was enough to give him nightmares
Sam shuddered at the thought of hearing those sounds again. Lest of all from Ironhide and Ratchet. The idea that those two could still ‘get it on’ was like thinking about his parents still doing the same. It might happen, but he did -not- want to know.
Aaaanyway, I give thee this. Tis short and kinda silly. Part of the Ratchet/Ironhide ff100 Comm and posted on ffnet.
Title: The Question
Pairing: Ratchet/Ironhide
Summary: Sam has become very curious about an aspect of Cybertronian living but that doesn't mean he'll like the answers.
Word Count: 639
The Question
“How do you guys…you know…” Sam asked, waving his hands in an elaborate side to side gesture.
Ratchet gave the boy a quizzical look, crouching down to be closer to the boy‘s level.
“How do we what?”
Sam gestured again, “You know…”
“No, I’m afraid I don’t. Would you care to, perhaps, complete the question with verbiage as opposed to hand signals that have no real meaning?”
Sam groaned and tried various signals and words, none of which seemed to relay his true question. He was oddly embarrassed, something even the most oblivious of mechs on the base would have noticed, had they been present. Finally, he settled on nervous babbling.
“You know, doin’ the dirty, banging bolts, turning turbines, the horizontal polka…”
Ratchet paused and drew back slightly. “Sam, are you inquiring as to how we, as you humans say, ‘have sex’?”
“Yes!” he exclaimed, shoulders slumping in relief.
Ratchet regarded the teen with what appeared, to Sam at any rate, to be a very amused expression.
“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” he said, straightening up from his crouched position and walking towards the exit.
“Wait. What?” Sam said, sputtering. “Ratchet! Not cool, man!”
“If you want ‘cool’, go talk to Jazz. That’s more his department.”
Sam stalked after the medic. “C’mon! I’m curious. I mean, is it possible? What do you guys use anyway cuz my brain is comin’ up with some -weird- equipment here and-…wait. Did you just tell me to ask Jazz?”
“Your chances would be better.”
“He’ll tell me?”
“No.” Ratchet replied, flippantly.
“Awww.” Sam groaned, crossing his arms over his chest and glowering at the green mech.
“He’d try to demonstrate.”
“Yeah…WHAT?!”
“Not with -you-. Close your lower mandible before you injure it on the floor.” Ratchet said, continuing on his path, giving the boy nothing but a small glance and a quick wave of his hand.
“Why doesn‘t he just, you know, -tell- me?”
“Because he’s an exhibitionist at spark, I think. Sadistic glitch sometimes. He’d prefer demonstrating if you so much as mention the subject.”
“With -who-?”
“Who ever is handy. Which is why I’m making myself scarce.” Ratchet said, pausing at one of the numerous doors in the current hallway. Without him even knocking, the door slid open quietly and the medic stepped over the threshold.
“Have fun, Sam.” Ratchet said, just as the doors slid shut behind him, the indicator pad blinking ‘locked’ in bold red letters.
Sam huffed out an aggravated breath. He’d asked Bee, who told him to ask Prime, who told him to ask Ratchet, who told him to ask Jazz, who apparently preferred getting it on with an audience. And Ratchet, who he’d figured would actually -tell- him, had retreated to…
Ironhide’s room? What could he possibly want in ther-
The loud thump against the wall was the only precursor to the drawn out groaning that followed. Sam stepped closer, wondering if the two had gotten into another one of their infamous bouts of stubbornness. There was another groan, then a hiss, and a muffled ‘do that again’ in what sounded like a very pleading voice.
Sam’s eyes widened in realization. -That- was definitely not a fight. That was…
CRASH! *groan*
That was quite enough, thank you.
Sam turned and quickly headed back down the hallway, away from the locked room and back to the relevant safety of waiting for Bumblebee to return from his patrol.
He original question, however, had yet to be fully answered and already it was enough to give him nightmares
Sam shuddered at the thought of hearing those sounds again. Lest of all from Ironhide and Ratchet. The idea that those two could still ‘get it on’ was like thinking about his parents still doing the same. It might happen, but he did -not- want to know.