Protectobot Snippets #6
Hey now, wouldja lookee there? I found it! My sanity! *pokes it* Spring madness is on the wane, the continuous school groups and big exhausting events are over with at work (for the most part - Family Campout - whattheheck was I thinking!? *headdesk* The event will be fine and lots of fun, I'm sure, but ye gods! The red tape! O_O) Baby wildlifes are all big enough to feed themselves; no more 5X a day bottle feedings, at least until the second wave of babies, which should hit somewhere mid-July. I feel almost...not tired! ^_^ I really would be not!tired, except that I have been gardening like a crazy gardening maniac. I have dirt in places where the sun don't shine my friends, but you should see my little baby compass plants, and milkweeds, and rattlesnake masters, and mountain mints, and queen of the prairies, all nice and cozy in the soil! They're so sweet *coos at sprouts*
So, have a nice fresh batch of snippets! Mostly fluffitude here, maybe a hint of angst mixed in. Now that I have a little breathing space again, I might start posting a few of the earlier longer bits that could stand alone as one shots on transficsations and ff.net - if I can think of titles that is. Gah! Titles. They torment me. Or at least make me purse my lips.
Edit: The Rattlesnake Master and the Queen of the Prairie - now that would be a cool title! Now it just needs a plot....
1.
“A little too well-behaved,” Ironhide grunted his opinion. “We’re going to have to toughen them up a bit.”
“They’re a day old, Ironhide,” Wheeljack replied, vocal indicators flashing indignantly. “Don’t you go trying to toughen them up; they’re fine just as they are.”
“It’s not a stroll through the crystal gardens we’re getting them ready for, you know,” Ironhide muttered under his breath, but withheld from saying more as Streetwise turned his head to look at him curiously.
Even Ironhide’s optics softened though, when First Aid came over and began exploring him with gentle, inquisitive fingers, as he had done with everyone, looking to Ratchet for confirmation as he identified Ironhide’s various parts and components, and when Blades curled up trustingly against his side, gazing admiringly at his shoulder cannons, the stern old soldier positively melted. Maybe the toughening could wait. Just for awhile.
2.
He’d insisted he was fine, but they could all tell the latest round of short outs had taken a lot out of him. Slingshot was not particularly surprised when First Aid, who had been sitting quietly on the ledge next to him after their energon break, began leaning further and further to the side until finally he was snuggled against Slingshot’s wing in full recharge. Slingshot shifted, just a little bit. Just enough so First Aid wouldn’t accidentally slide off. Slingshot lifted his head and froze as he found Blades watching him, an odd little half smile quirking his lip components.
3.
No one had the spark to tell Hot Spot that hugging one’s commanding officer before giving your report was not exactly standard procedure. Silverbolt, observing Optimus’ slightly startled but pleased smile and warm return hug, and noting as well how the usually perceptive Protectobots seemed to be completely oblivious to the indulgent smiles and chuckles surrounding them, began to wonder if Hot Spot might be a bit more devious than he had originally given him credit for.
4.
Hot Spot exchanged a look with Blades, not sure how he felt about someone actually writing on his brother. He had to admit, however, the engravings were beautiful. Subtly and gracefully rendered, the glyphs were hardly visible until the light hit them at a certain angle, transforming the old and faintly rippled scars on his brother’s back armor into an exquisite work of art. As far as what the engravings said though…
“Aid,” Hot Spot said hesitantly, brushing a hand over part of the elegant swirling design, “do you know what Sunstreaker wrote when he did these?” Not that he didn’t appreciate the sentiment, but still, reading detailed descriptions of the dire and rather horrific fates that would befall anyone foolish enough to so much as chip First Aid’s paint…it was a little disconcerting to see such things on his peaceful medic-brother’s back.
First Aid shook his head, untroubled, with an amused smile at their expressions.
“I can only imagine,” he said, twinking his visor at them with a little laugh, “but Ratchet said I was better off not knowing.”
5.
Their voices across the transmission were equally weary and raspy sounding, but there was a note of hope to them now that hadn’t been there before. “Aid, this is remarkable,” Ratchet said. “I’ve never seen an antivirus like it before. Blades is already recovering then?”
“He’s doing much better, and all of the critical patients are improving,” First Aid said, sounding very tired. “We’re not sure about Hot Spot yet; he still hasn’t woken up, but the virus is definitely…he’s going to be just fine, I’m sure of it.” First Aid said the last in a tight, confident, cheerful way that told Ratchet just how deeply First Aid was still worried about his gestalt leader.
“We’ll start distributing it right away. I’d like to run it through the usual protocols, but we just don’t have time. Aid…do you know what you’ve done here?”
“It was all of us Ratchet, not just me. It was…Defensor, really. I’d never have come up with this on my own.” All of their minds, woven together by Hot Spot, who had been barely clinging to consciousness. Working together closer and longer than they ever had before, powered by desperation and First Aid’s medical knowledge, Streetwise’s swift mind that missed no clue however small, Blades’ fierce and engulfing love and every last iota of strength despite being sick himself, Groove’s knack for thinking sideways. It had been Groove’s idea to make friends with the virus, but First Aid wasn’t going to tell Ratchet about that part just yet.
6.
“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks,” Groove supplied helpfully, chin propped on one hand, a gentle smile deepening the corners of his mouthplates. “It is the east, and Sunstreaker is the sun.”
So, have a nice fresh batch of snippets! Mostly fluffitude here, maybe a hint of angst mixed in. Now that I have a little breathing space again, I might start posting a few of the earlier longer bits that could stand alone as one shots on transficsations and ff.net - if I can think of titles that is. Gah! Titles. They torment me. Or at least make me purse my lips.
Edit: The Rattlesnake Master and the Queen of the Prairie - now that would be a cool title! Now it just needs a plot....
1.
“A little too well-behaved,” Ironhide grunted his opinion. “We’re going to have to toughen them up a bit.”
“They’re a day old, Ironhide,” Wheeljack replied, vocal indicators flashing indignantly. “Don’t you go trying to toughen them up; they’re fine just as they are.”
“It’s not a stroll through the crystal gardens we’re getting them ready for, you know,” Ironhide muttered under his breath, but withheld from saying more as Streetwise turned his head to look at him curiously.
Even Ironhide’s optics softened though, when First Aid came over and began exploring him with gentle, inquisitive fingers, as he had done with everyone, looking to Ratchet for confirmation as he identified Ironhide’s various parts and components, and when Blades curled up trustingly against his side, gazing admiringly at his shoulder cannons, the stern old soldier positively melted. Maybe the toughening could wait. Just for awhile.
2.
He’d insisted he was fine, but they could all tell the latest round of short outs had taken a lot out of him. Slingshot was not particularly surprised when First Aid, who had been sitting quietly on the ledge next to him after their energon break, began leaning further and further to the side until finally he was snuggled against Slingshot’s wing in full recharge. Slingshot shifted, just a little bit. Just enough so First Aid wouldn’t accidentally slide off. Slingshot lifted his head and froze as he found Blades watching him, an odd little half smile quirking his lip components.
3.
No one had the spark to tell Hot Spot that hugging one’s commanding officer before giving your report was not exactly standard procedure. Silverbolt, observing Optimus’ slightly startled but pleased smile and warm return hug, and noting as well how the usually perceptive Protectobots seemed to be completely oblivious to the indulgent smiles and chuckles surrounding them, began to wonder if Hot Spot might be a bit more devious than he had originally given him credit for.
4.
Hot Spot exchanged a look with Blades, not sure how he felt about someone actually writing on his brother. He had to admit, however, the engravings were beautiful. Subtly and gracefully rendered, the glyphs were hardly visible until the light hit them at a certain angle, transforming the old and faintly rippled scars on his brother’s back armor into an exquisite work of art. As far as what the engravings said though…
“Aid,” Hot Spot said hesitantly, brushing a hand over part of the elegant swirling design, “do you know what Sunstreaker wrote when he did these?” Not that he didn’t appreciate the sentiment, but still, reading detailed descriptions of the dire and rather horrific fates that would befall anyone foolish enough to so much as chip First Aid’s paint…it was a little disconcerting to see such things on his peaceful medic-brother’s back.
First Aid shook his head, untroubled, with an amused smile at their expressions.
“I can only imagine,” he said, twinking his visor at them with a little laugh, “but Ratchet said I was better off not knowing.”
5.
Their voices across the transmission were equally weary and raspy sounding, but there was a note of hope to them now that hadn’t been there before. “Aid, this is remarkable,” Ratchet said. “I’ve never seen an antivirus like it before. Blades is already recovering then?”
“He’s doing much better, and all of the critical patients are improving,” First Aid said, sounding very tired. “We’re not sure about Hot Spot yet; he still hasn’t woken up, but the virus is definitely…he’s going to be just fine, I’m sure of it.” First Aid said the last in a tight, confident, cheerful way that told Ratchet just how deeply First Aid was still worried about his gestalt leader.
“We’ll start distributing it right away. I’d like to run it through the usual protocols, but we just don’t have time. Aid…do you know what you’ve done here?”
“It was all of us Ratchet, not just me. It was…Defensor, really. I’d never have come up with this on my own.” All of their minds, woven together by Hot Spot, who had been barely clinging to consciousness. Working together closer and longer than they ever had before, powered by desperation and First Aid’s medical knowledge, Streetwise’s swift mind that missed no clue however small, Blades’ fierce and engulfing love and every last iota of strength despite being sick himself, Groove’s knack for thinking sideways. It had been Groove’s idea to make friends with the virus, but First Aid wasn’t going to tell Ratchet about that part just yet.
6.
“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks,” Groove supplied helpfully, chin propped on one hand, a gentle smile deepening the corners of his mouthplates. “It is the east, and Sunstreaker is the sun.”