Blake returns... again.
Title: Banter
Rating: PG-13 for mild cursing
Warning: none
Summary: Sequel to In the Line of Duty , Alone, Reunion, Snipe Hunt, The Road to Hell, and Psychological Warfare.
Barricade and Frenzy head back to LA, but Ironhide isn't willing to let it all go...
Blake watched the Mustang roll back into the precinct parking lot after three days of absence. He had to grin - the interceptor was purring like a two-ton kitten.
“So, whose life you two been making miserable?” Blake called over his cruiser’s hood.
“None of your business, fleshbag,” Barricade grumbled good-naturedly, pulling in next to Blake.
“And he d-d-deserved it-t anyway,” Frenzy added, poking his head out the open window.
“I don’t think I wanna know,” Blake laughed, shutting his car door. “I’m going inside before I accidentally learn something I shouldn't. It’s good to have you two back.”
“Pat my hood and I’m going to run you over.”
Blake pulled his hand back, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry.”
x-x-x
“Slag it, Prime! Haven’t you been listening?!”
“Yes, I have, Ironhide. But juvenile pranks do not constitute a reason to risk lives.” He held up a hand to forestall the older mech’s protests. “No, this isn’t up for discussion.” Optimus glanced down at the tired-looking Lennox. “I’m sorry for any distress all of this may have caused you and your family, Captain.”
Lennox waved the apology away. “It’s really more of an annoyance.” He shook his head. “Have to admire the little bugger, though. He even got the TV to display backwards and upside down.”
Sam choked. Ironhide glared at them before turning and stomping out. Optimus just sighed and followed him.
Sam waited until they were out of earshot. “Did he really write - “
“’My other car is a Decepticon?’ Yeah, right across Sarah’s bumper. I thought ol’ Ironhide was going to lose a gasket.”
Bumblebee’s door panels twitched as he desperately tried to keep from laughing. Epps didn’t even bother hiding it.
“He also sliced the back seams of every pair of fatigues I own,” Will continued wryly. “I had to beg a pair off the boys on base.”
“Frenzy was a busy little bot, eh?” Epps chuckled.
“Oh, that’s not all. After re-wiring the stove burners, he made all the calculators in the house add in base six. Even removed the seven, eight and nine buttons, the helpful little shit.” Lennox was chuckling despite himself. “Of course, that wasn’t the worst of it. Besides the pudding in our bed, he also signed us up for every mailing list in the Western Hemisphere, paper and email. And I’m sure we haven’t found everything yet.”
Sam sat on Bee’s foot, laughing so hard tears ran down his face.
“Oh, god… Sorry man, but it’s pretty damn funny,” Epps said apologetically, still trying to catch his breath.
Lennox sobered a bit. “It is now, but it wasn’t at first. I mean… we had a Decepticon loose in our house, completely undetected despite the fact that we were home, and Ironhide was parked in the driveway. He could have done a lot of damage before ‘Hide noticed anything was wrong.”
“So that’s why Ironhide is so upset.” Sam wiped his eyes, grin faltering a bit.
“He’s afraid of what could have happened,” Will said quietly. Raised voices could be heard coming through the doors. Ironhide wasn’t letting the issue go. Will paused a moment. “Well, that and the micro-transmitter.”
“The micro-transmitter?”
Will bit back a smirk. “Animal sounds. Every time he hits the brakes. He’s too embarrassed to tell Ratchet, and it’s so small I can’t find it.”
“… Animal sounds?” Bumblebee asked faintly.
“Oh, yeah. Sheep, geese, donkey…My favorite is the cow.” He mimed hitting the brakes. “Mooooooooooooo.”
Laughter broke out again.
x-x-x
“643, 110.”
“643.”
“What’s the status on 643 and a quarter?”
“He’s 10-96."
A pause. “I know he’s crazy, 643. I was asking if he was available.”
“He’s not with me. Check the report room.”
“Copy 643, 110 clear.”
x-x-x
Detective Walters glared at the radio sitting on his desk, an evidence tag attached to its antenna. He dropped h is report on the desk and glared around the room. “Who left their evidence on my desk?! This is my workspace! It is not a communal table!” No one answered, but the looks he was getting back were unfriendly.
He turned back to his desk and stopped.
The report was upended across his keyboard. Walters frowned. Must have dropped it wrong… He gathered the papers and put them back into the folder. Walters gave the officers another suspicious look.
The sound of a paper shredder started behind him. Walters gaped at the open folder on his desk, and the report disappearing into the shredder.
“What the-“
Someone chortled. Walters glared. He gathered what was left of his dignity and grabbed the CD-player, stalking out. He headed for the evidence locker, flipping the evidence tag over as he walked. “Case number 643. Evil Alien Robot,” he read out loud. “Does this crap ever stop?”
He was so focused on imagining what he was going to do with the pranksters when he finally caught them that he completely missed the arm unfolding from the CD-player in his hand. He didn’t notice the claw undoing the snap holding his keys on, or the muffled jang of the keys landing in the garbage as they passed.
He even missed his wallet landing in the drinking fountain, and the can of mace being handed to an amused female officer as she held a security door for him.
Walters reached the heavy reinforced door protecting the evidence lockers and grabbed for his keys.
There was an empty loop where they should’ve been. Alarmed, the detective checked his belt. His cell… handcuffs… radio…
“What the hell?!” He set the CD-player down next to the door and turned back to try and locate his things. The hallway was empty. Walters kicked the security door, unable to get through without a key. He pounded on the door. “This isn’t funny!” No answer. He gave the door another kick before deciding to try the other doors, hoping to find another officer. If nothing else, there’s a camera outside the evidence room - Dispatch can buzz me in and out.
He stopped. The CD-player was gone.
x-x-x
Walters immerged from the back some time later to a chorus of sniggering, carrying most of his missing equipment. He was, to put it lightly, furious.
When I find the joker who dropped my cell in the mop bucket…
He still hadn’t found his keys.
Walters dumped his gear on his desk and cursed. The damn CD-player was sitting where his computer was supposed to be. The computer was on the floor, the keyboard sticking out of the garbage can.
“Oh, that’s where it went. Excuse me, sir.” Blake leaned around the detective and snagged the CD-player. The officer took one look at Walter’s purpling face and decided he and Frenzy should probably find another area of the precinct.
x-x-x
Ironhide’s engine snarled. Why was he the only one who realized how much a danger the two Decepticons were? They had proved it with the stunt at the Lennox house. But the other Autobots were shrugging the whole thing off as a harmless prank!
Ironhide knew better. They were flaunting their ability to hit whatever they wanted; the fact they hadn’t hurt anyone this time did not mean they wouldn’t next time.
Well, there wouldn’t be a next time. Ironhide turned south, merging onto the freeway. In four hours, they wouldn’t be a danger anymore. Not for anyone, ever again.
---------------------------------
A/N - Bad 'Hide! Alright, notes on police radio codes...Barricade is unit 643, Blake is unit 110. "and a quarter" usually refers to the child of an officer. "and a half" would be their spouse. In this case, Blake's refering to Frenzy, who would probably take offense and being called Barricade's kid if he'd been listening. A"10-96" is a mental patient. Saying someone is 10-96 means they're nuts. More notes on police stations - Because evidence lockers generally contain large amounts of guns and drugs, they're usually located in the middle of the precinct, behind at least two sets of heavy-duty security doors that require either a key or being buzzed in by the people watching the cameras.
Rating: PG-13 for mild cursing
Warning: none
Summary: Sequel to In the Line of Duty , Alone, Reunion, Snipe Hunt, The Road to Hell, and Psychological Warfare.
Barricade and Frenzy head back to LA, but Ironhide isn't willing to let it all go...
Blake watched the Mustang roll back into the precinct parking lot after three days of absence. He had to grin - the interceptor was purring like a two-ton kitten.
“So, whose life you two been making miserable?” Blake called over his cruiser’s hood.
“None of your business, fleshbag,” Barricade grumbled good-naturedly, pulling in next to Blake.
“And he d-d-deserved it-t anyway,” Frenzy added, poking his head out the open window.
“I don’t think I wanna know,” Blake laughed, shutting his car door. “I’m going inside before I accidentally learn something I shouldn't. It’s good to have you two back.”
“Pat my hood and I’m going to run you over.”
Blake pulled his hand back, grinning sheepishly. “Sorry.”
x-x-x
“Slag it, Prime! Haven’t you been listening?!”
“Yes, I have, Ironhide. But juvenile pranks do not constitute a reason to risk lives.” He held up a hand to forestall the older mech’s protests. “No, this isn’t up for discussion.” Optimus glanced down at the tired-looking Lennox. “I’m sorry for any distress all of this may have caused you and your family, Captain.”
Lennox waved the apology away. “It’s really more of an annoyance.” He shook his head. “Have to admire the little bugger, though. He even got the TV to display backwards and upside down.”
Sam choked. Ironhide glared at them before turning and stomping out. Optimus just sighed and followed him.
Sam waited until they were out of earshot. “Did he really write - “
“’My other car is a Decepticon?’ Yeah, right across Sarah’s bumper. I thought ol’ Ironhide was going to lose a gasket.”
Bumblebee’s door panels twitched as he desperately tried to keep from laughing. Epps didn’t even bother hiding it.
“He also sliced the back seams of every pair of fatigues I own,” Will continued wryly. “I had to beg a pair off the boys on base.”
“Frenzy was a busy little bot, eh?” Epps chuckled.
“Oh, that’s not all. After re-wiring the stove burners, he made all the calculators in the house add in base six. Even removed the seven, eight and nine buttons, the helpful little shit.” Lennox was chuckling despite himself. “Of course, that wasn’t the worst of it. Besides the pudding in our bed, he also signed us up for every mailing list in the Western Hemisphere, paper and email. And I’m sure we haven’t found everything yet.”
Sam sat on Bee’s foot, laughing so hard tears ran down his face.
“Oh, god… Sorry man, but it’s pretty damn funny,” Epps said apologetically, still trying to catch his breath.
Lennox sobered a bit. “It is now, but it wasn’t at first. I mean… we had a Decepticon loose in our house, completely undetected despite the fact that we were home, and Ironhide was parked in the driveway. He could have done a lot of damage before ‘Hide noticed anything was wrong.”
“So that’s why Ironhide is so upset.” Sam wiped his eyes, grin faltering a bit.
“He’s afraid of what could have happened,” Will said quietly. Raised voices could be heard coming through the doors. Ironhide wasn’t letting the issue go. Will paused a moment. “Well, that and the micro-transmitter.”
“The micro-transmitter?”
Will bit back a smirk. “Animal sounds. Every time he hits the brakes. He’s too embarrassed to tell Ratchet, and it’s so small I can’t find it.”
“… Animal sounds?” Bumblebee asked faintly.
“Oh, yeah. Sheep, geese, donkey…My favorite is the cow.” He mimed hitting the brakes. “Mooooooooooooo.”
Laughter broke out again.
x-x-x
“643, 110.”
“643.”
“What’s the status on 643 and a quarter?”
“He’s 10-96."
A pause. “I know he’s crazy, 643. I was asking if he was available.”
“He’s not with me. Check the report room.”
“Copy 643, 110 clear.”
x-x-x
Detective Walters glared at the radio sitting on his desk, an evidence tag attached to its antenna. He dropped h is report on the desk and glared around the room. “Who left their evidence on my desk?! This is my workspace! It is not a communal table!” No one answered, but the looks he was getting back were unfriendly.
He turned back to his desk and stopped.
The report was upended across his keyboard. Walters frowned. Must have dropped it wrong… He gathered the papers and put them back into the folder. Walters gave the officers another suspicious look.
The sound of a paper shredder started behind him. Walters gaped at the open folder on his desk, and the report disappearing into the shredder.
“What the-“
Someone chortled. Walters glared. He gathered what was left of his dignity and grabbed the CD-player, stalking out. He headed for the evidence locker, flipping the evidence tag over as he walked. “Case number 643. Evil Alien Robot,” he read out loud. “Does this crap ever stop?”
He was so focused on imagining what he was going to do with the pranksters when he finally caught them that he completely missed the arm unfolding from the CD-player in his hand. He didn’t notice the claw undoing the snap holding his keys on, or the muffled jang of the keys landing in the garbage as they passed.
He even missed his wallet landing in the drinking fountain, and the can of mace being handed to an amused female officer as she held a security door for him.
Walters reached the heavy reinforced door protecting the evidence lockers and grabbed for his keys.
There was an empty loop where they should’ve been. Alarmed, the detective checked his belt. His cell… handcuffs… radio…
“What the hell?!” He set the CD-player down next to the door and turned back to try and locate his things. The hallway was empty. Walters kicked the security door, unable to get through without a key. He pounded on the door. “This isn’t funny!” No answer. He gave the door another kick before deciding to try the other doors, hoping to find another officer. If nothing else, there’s a camera outside the evidence room - Dispatch can buzz me in and out.
He stopped. The CD-player was gone.
x-x-x
Walters immerged from the back some time later to a chorus of sniggering, carrying most of his missing equipment. He was, to put it lightly, furious.
When I find the joker who dropped my cell in the mop bucket…
He still hadn’t found his keys.
Walters dumped his gear on his desk and cursed. The damn CD-player was sitting where his computer was supposed to be. The computer was on the floor, the keyboard sticking out of the garbage can.
“Oh, that’s where it went. Excuse me, sir.” Blake leaned around the detective and snagged the CD-player. The officer took one look at Walter’s purpling face and decided he and Frenzy should probably find another area of the precinct.
x-x-x
Ironhide’s engine snarled. Why was he the only one who realized how much a danger the two Decepticons were? They had proved it with the stunt at the Lennox house. But the other Autobots were shrugging the whole thing off as a harmless prank!
Ironhide knew better. They were flaunting their ability to hit whatever they wanted; the fact they hadn’t hurt anyone this time did not mean they wouldn’t next time.
Well, there wouldn’t be a next time. Ironhide turned south, merging onto the freeway. In four hours, they wouldn’t be a danger anymore. Not for anyone, ever again.
---------------------------------
A/N - Bad 'Hide! Alright, notes on police radio codes...Barricade is unit 643, Blake is unit 110. "and a quarter" usually refers to the child of an officer. "and a half" would be their spouse. In this case, Blake's refering to Frenzy, who would probably take offense and being called Barricade's kid if he'd been listening. A"10-96" is a mental patient. Saying someone is 10-96 means they're nuts. More notes on police stations - Because evidence lockers generally contain large amounts of guns and drugs, they're usually located in the middle of the precinct, behind at least two sets of heavy-duty security doors that require either a key or being buzzed in by the people watching the cameras.