[Challenge fic] Plastic Surgery
Warning: more attempted cuteness. =)
Title: Plastic Surgery
Contest Prompt: Makeover
Author: Jen "Newsy" Kerner
Characters: Ratchet, Sari
Rating: G
Word Count: 441
Summary: Play-Doh is not one of Ratchet's favorite surgical tools.
Some toys, like some traditions, died hard on Earth. The mushy, malleable, slightly sticky and artificially colored substance known as Play-Doh - still going strong more than a century after its invention - was one of them. The decidedly low-tech goop was also apparently one of Sari's favorite things in the world. It seemed to have the power to make her completely ignore the "favorite toy" that hung around her neck.
That power was good for Sari's imagination... and bad for Ratchet's dignity.
"Dr. Ratchet, you need an operation," the girl laughed, pulling herself up Ratchet's body as though he was a sentient jungle gym. He sat still and patiently allowed her to climb and swing; Sari did this to everyone, and today must have been his turn.
Sari reached his shoulder and stretched as high as she could, aiming for the broken horn on Ratchet's helm. The medibot could see in his peripheral vision that she held a handful of red Play-Doh. "And just what," he asked, "are you planning to do with that gunk?"
"I told you," Sari huffed. "I'm doing an operation."
"I do not need surgery!" Ratchet's patience hung on the edge of running out. "I work just fine... for the shape I'm in."
"But your sticky-up horn thing's broken," Sari insisted. "Don'tcha want it to look better?"
Ratchet plucked the child off his shoulder with two fingers just before she could plant the wad of dough in the place she intended. "I've never done a cosmetic operation in my life, kid," he grumbled. "I certainly don't need one done on me."
"But it's broken!" the girl protested all the louder. "Why won't you let me fix it?"
Ratchet lowered his head slightly. The real reason he kept the prominent blemish unrepaired was at once too important to forget and too painful to remember... and, he decided, too heavy to lay on the innocent mind of a small child.
The medic placed Sari carefully on his knee and smiled. "Because I like it the way it is," he said. "It's part of me."
Thankfully, the child took the refusal well. "Okay," she chirped, squashing the Play-Doh between her hands. "I'll save this for the next time you get scratched up somewhere else. 'Cause I know you will."
Ratchet leaned back comfortably and watched Sari leap off his knee and run, giggling, out of the room. The girl was out of sight before he realized he just might have been insulted.
"Hey!" he shouted... then quietly joined the laughter at his own expense.
Title: Plastic Surgery
Contest Prompt: Makeover
Author: Jen "Newsy" Kerner
Characters: Ratchet, Sari
Rating: G
Word Count: 441
Summary: Play-Doh is not one of Ratchet's favorite surgical tools.
Some toys, like some traditions, died hard on Earth. The mushy, malleable, slightly sticky and artificially colored substance known as Play-Doh - still going strong more than a century after its invention - was one of them. The decidedly low-tech goop was also apparently one of Sari's favorite things in the world. It seemed to have the power to make her completely ignore the "favorite toy" that hung around her neck.
That power was good for Sari's imagination... and bad for Ratchet's dignity.
"Dr. Ratchet, you need an operation," the girl laughed, pulling herself up Ratchet's body as though he was a sentient jungle gym. He sat still and patiently allowed her to climb and swing; Sari did this to everyone, and today must have been his turn.
Sari reached his shoulder and stretched as high as she could, aiming for the broken horn on Ratchet's helm. The medibot could see in his peripheral vision that she held a handful of red Play-Doh. "And just what," he asked, "are you planning to do with that gunk?"
"I told you," Sari huffed. "I'm doing an operation."
"I do not need surgery!" Ratchet's patience hung on the edge of running out. "I work just fine... for the shape I'm in."
"But your sticky-up horn thing's broken," Sari insisted. "Don'tcha want it to look better?"
Ratchet plucked the child off his shoulder with two fingers just before she could plant the wad of dough in the place she intended. "I've never done a cosmetic operation in my life, kid," he grumbled. "I certainly don't need one done on me."
"But it's broken!" the girl protested all the louder. "Why won't you let me fix it?"
Ratchet lowered his head slightly. The real reason he kept the prominent blemish unrepaired was at once too important to forget and too painful to remember... and, he decided, too heavy to lay on the innocent mind of a small child.
The medic placed Sari carefully on his knee and smiled. "Because I like it the way it is," he said. "It's part of me."
Thankfully, the child took the refusal well. "Okay," she chirped, squashing the Play-Doh between her hands. "I'll save this for the next time you get scratched up somewhere else. 'Cause I know you will."
Ratchet leaned back comfortably and watched Sari leap off his knee and run, giggling, out of the room. The girl was out of sight before he realized he just might have been insulted.
"Hey!" he shouted... then quietly joined the laughter at his own expense.