Not All Great Minds Think Alike
Author's Foreword:
To be honest, I have no idea what the frag I was thinking when I was writing it ...
Well, They never really show how Perceptor becomes part of The Ark crew, I always wondered about that and this is in a manner of speaking one of the first explanations I could come up with ... I am not saying it is a good explanation but I thought it was very well worth pursuing! It came out way longer than I expected though.
Sorry that I haven't been updating much, I promise more is on the way! I am not dead, just extremely, painfully slow. Updates should hopefully come more frequent now that I am only taking one course at the moment and I have a very unstable job ...
At some parts I think I was trying too hard to be funny but about some other parts I feel rather good!
Let's see, anything else you should know before reading this, hm, well, I always thought that Wheeljack would rather not share his lab with anyone other than Ratchet a few times *giggles* and with the "new guy" like Perceptor appearing seemingly out of nowhere without any explanation what so ever (not that I mind~!) who does everything by the book unlike Wheeljack who is ... well ... a bat-sh*t insane inventor ... you know, chaos and all that stuff ... I would think he would get rather angry and inhospitable.
Hope you enjoy it!
"Aaahhh, 'nother mornin', 'nother day fer makin' stuff!" Wheeljack entered into the lab and routinely reached out with his left servo to grab a cube of energon, from the matter replicator he always left every time he exited the lab before recharge, only to feel that his breakfast was missing, "Wait, wha'?"
Taking a look where the engineer placed the matter replicator, he saw that it was no longer there.
"What the …" After a short pause, with a twitching optic he slowly inspected the lab. "Who the slag …"
"You must be Wheeljack!"
"AH! WHE'EH THE SLAG YEH COME FROM?" The mech violently jumped, crashing into a near-by table, breaking the vials that weren't there before filled with strange liquids which when reacted with one another causing a rather powerful explosion; throwing the engineer out of the lab into some red Autobot, landing on top of him.
"Ergh, by the freakin' Matrix what the …" Wheeljack finally noticed the other transformer under him, "Who're yeh?"
"Oh, dear, my name is Perceptor. Would you be so kind to …"
"WHEELJACK?"
Both the microscope and the car turned their heads to the end of the hall where they saw Ratchet, Jazz and Optimus Prime, staring at them:
"Isn't it a little too early in the morning for that?"
"So, what, I ain't good 'nough?"
"Calm down, Wheeljack!"
"What is it? I ain't doin' good 'nough of a job that yeh pull this guy out ef yer aft 'n' allow him teh occupy my lab without my permission?"
"Forgive me, I didn't mean for any of …"
"Shut up, Prickcepteh."
"It's Perceptor …"
Wheeljack gave the red mech such a glare that the microscope eeped, made a few steps back and shut his mouth.
"I am sorry, Wheeljack," Optimus put his servo on the engineer's shoulder, "Because there is not enough room on The Ark, I will need you to share the laboratory with Perceptor. I would hate to order you to do that."
"Besides," Ratchet raised his hands and made a few exploding gestures with his hands, "Maybe he will be able to prevent some of the explosions …"
"MY SHIT WORKS JUST FINE!" Wheeljack slammed his fist on the table so hard that not only did the table break, but the Lancia Stratos' whole arm fell off. Completely ignoring the missing servo, he continued his scream fest, "LOOK AT THE FUCKIN' DINOBOTS! Shu'eh the'eh were some problems but come on!"
"Calm down!"
"Um, your servo …"
"'N' where the hell did he even come from?" The racing car picked up his broken off servo and pointed it at Perceptor, "I didn' see him on The Ark when we were leavin Cybertron!"
"I-i-i-I forgive me for all the trouble I have caused …"
"Ergh, yeh people 're gonna drive me insane!"
"I don't think we have to …" Ratchet whispered to Optimus.
"What was that?" Wheeljack turned to the medic.
"Let's go fix your arm."
"Fine!" the engineer looked at Perceptor, "And yeh betteh stay the slag away from my stuff!"
The atmosphere in a classroom full of buzzing students was very charged; everybody was eager to get in front of the class and show the fruits of their labor.
"Perceptor," Alpha Trion waved his hand, effectively silencing all chatter in the not so vast facility, "Will you be so kind to present your project to us?"
"Yes, sir!" the young mech jumped from his seat and quickly made his way to the front of the class, a few times nearly stumbling and falling on chairs and tables, "Thank you all very much for coming. For my Role Model Assignment I would like to present one of the greatest minds to ever exist in the universe, an engineer who has won the respect of both The Autobots and The Decepticons, famous for his daring stunts and astounding imagination: Wheeljack!"
"Perceptor, forgive Wheeljack, things haven't been going exactly smoothly around here," Ratchet patted the microscope on the shoulder, "And Wheeljack has been having way many more 'accidents' than usual."
"Oh, no, no, I understand," the red mech smiled, "I would imagine things can get rather stressing in these conditions."
"Yeah, speaking of stress, I need to relieve some," the ambulance began making his way out in the hall, mischievously brushing his fingers on his chin.
"Oh, dear!"
"… hospitable …"
"Ok, so, if yeh want this teh work, yeh gonna hafta follow my rules, got that?"
"Yes, sir."
"Rule numbeh one, stop callin' me sir …"
"What should I call …"
"… rule numbeh 2, nev'eh intehrrupt me 'gain. Yeh can call me Wheeljack."
"Yes, Wheeljack."
"Rule numbeh 3, stop lookin' at me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like dotin' at me 'n' almost droolin'! What am I, optic candy?"
"Yes," Perceptor's facial plates arranged in a faint smile. Quickly shaking off his thoughts the red microscope used his hands to help him explain, "I am sorry, I must not have gotten a good recharge."
"Rule numbeh 4, if yeh wanna work he'eh, get yer slaggin' recharge! I don' want yeh fallin' asleep here! This is a lab! Shit can go wrong! Explode in yer face! Leave yeh on 'nother side of the galaxy singin' Hula to a tribe of vicious tripedal Glorkaphnorks? We're scientist and engineeh fer cryin' out loud! We do the real men's work he'eh!"
"Right, sir!"
Wheeljack malevolently squinted at the red Autobot, making him freeze in place.
"Um, I mean, Wheeljack."
"Good! Now, rule numbeh 5, the most important rule of all, yeh think yeh'll be able teh follow it?"
"I shall do my best!"
"DON' FUCKIN' TOUCH MY FUCKIN' MATTEH REPLICATEH! PUT IT WHERE YEH FRAGGIN' FOUND IT!"
"EEP! Right away!"
"So," Jazz approached Ratchet in the cafeteria, "How is Perceptor doin'? Wheeljack didn' blow him Cybertron sky-high?"
"Not yet," the white mech said grabbing a cube of energon, "I got a feeling that both of them are up to something, I just can't quite put it in words."
"Doc's intuition, huh?"
"Oh, no, I hope I won't need to help pick out Wheeljack's parts and bits out of that explosive monster banana whale, that made catapults out of refrigerators and used Huffer as a target."
"Say what?"
"I should begin recording those on Bot-tube; wonder how many hits I'll get …"
"… Wheeljack is a professional …"
"… sir …"
"WHEELJACK!"
"Wheeljack, sir!"
"WHEELJACK! NO SIR!"
"Yes, Wheeljack, sir! Oh! GOODNESS!"
"FER THE LAST SLAGGIN' TIME! Wheel-jack! What yeh think we doin' here? This ain't some fat gasoline-cats joint or whateveh the slag else!"
"Forgive me, it just comes out …"
"Will yeh relax? Yer pissin' me the hell off!"
"I shall do my best."
"Urgh, kid," the engineer, somewhat calmer, put his servo on the microscope's shoulder, "I feel fer yeh, I remembeh the good ol' days back on Cybertron, yeh ya know what, let's save those fer some otheh time. What was it that yeh wanted teh say?"
"The test chamber is on fire …"
"'N' YA TELLIN' ME NOW?"
"… abides the rules to the letter, reasonable …"
The Lancia Stratos wasn't too angry with his new partner, in fact, he was somewhat joyful about this. Someone else to talk to other than Ratchet who never ceased his never-ending lectures that he should be more "cautious" about his inventions.
"Pfhe, who does he think he is? Chief Medical Officeh? Oh, wait, damn. Well, yeh know what, screw that, I still got shit to do! What should I use as the poweh source fer the lazeh rifle powehsaw?"
Indulged into thinking about his new dilemma, he made his way through the halls of The Ark just like any other day, opened the door to the lab just like usual, but his hand only grabbed empty air. Increasingly getting angrier by the second, the racing car looked at where a certain something was supposed to be.
"Percepteh! What the frag did I tell ya 'bout the matteh replicateh?"
"… but Wheeljack …" the red mech tried justifying himself.
"What the frag did I tell ya 'bout the matteh replicateh?" Wheeljack couldn't help but raise his tone even further, quickly scaring the scientist.
"To put it whe…"
"TO PUT IT WHE'EH YOU FOUND IT! So whe'eh is it, Precepteh?" He leaned over the rightful place of the aforementioned device with both hands pointing there. "Is it he'eh? Oh? It is? Then why can't I touch it er see it? What did yeh say Pehcepteh? I can't see it 'cause yeh accidentally made it invisible? And I can't touch it because it is in 'nother dimension? Is that what yeh are sayin'?"
"No …"
"'Re yeh sure?" Wheeljack tilted half of his body and made a few quick, short steps towards the scientist, "'re yeh sure it didn' randomly turn invisible 'n' get telehported to 'notheh dimension? Because, Matrix forbid, if yeh did not …"
"I WILL DO IT RIGHT AWAY SIR!" The moment those words left the red mech's mouth, he realized what was about to happen.
The white Autobot squinted. In that glare alone was packed more anger, annoyance and malevolence than in all of the Decepticons' combined.
"Wheel…" Perceptor swallowed, "…jack?"
"Get. Me. My. Matteh. Replicateh."
The microscope quickly hurried to get the device and install it exactly the way he found it the first time.
"… but Wheeljack, in the protocol it states that it is a hazard to …"
"Screw the freakin' protocol!"
"… but you wrote it!"
"Screw the slaggin' protocol, I am the slaggin' protocol!"
"… responsible …"
"Wheeljack …" Ratchet walked into the laboratory, hoping to find the inventor, "I think we need to talk."
"If it's about that hole in the space-time continuum, that totally wasn' me."
"Wait," the ambulance stopped and looked at his friend with a very confused look on his face, "What are you talking about?"
"Um, what 're yeh talkin' 'bout?"
"I am talking about you and Perceptor! You made another ripple in time and space?"
"Um," Wheeljack looked off to the side, "It was, um, Pehcepteh! Yes! Pehcepteh did it!"
"Uh-huh …"
"I told him not to, eh, do that …"
"Right."
"But he just took that TV remote 'n' began tweakin' it."
"Right, Perceptor just randomly took a piece of Earth technology and began doing things to it …"
"Yeah! I warned him! He didn' listen! That Percepteh, eh?"
"I wonder where he got the idea."
"How would I know? I absolutely, definitely wasn' the one who pitched it to him …"
"So if I call Perceptor right now, he is going to tell me everything you did?"
"Um, speakin' of Perceptor, what was it 'bout him and me?"
"Well," Ratchet sighed, seeing that it was pointless to continue on the present topic of conversation, "Are you two getting along well?"
"Whaddya mean?"
"I hear you screaming …"
"Oh! That! Oh, um, that's, um, eh, for my new invention!"
"… a lot of screaming …"
"Yeah, it's powehred by, um, vibrations, uh, in the air …"
"So whe'eh is that device?"
"Eh, Percepteh has it."
"I thought he was working with the TV remote to the space-time continuum."
"Yeah, that too …"
"Right."
"So, to answeh yer question, we, um, gettin' …"
"… along?" Ratchet towered in the room, spreading a certain aura of overwhelming influence, "I certainly hope so."
"Eh, whateveh ya say doc."
"In any case, how are those updates on the anti-virus coming?"
"What anti-vi… oh, yes, the, eh, anti-virus, yes, I'm workin' on it, just takin' a break …"
"… by playing Enraged Avians?"
"… daring …"
"… Wheeljack! It is unsafe!"
"Pehcepteh, this ain' my first time workin' with multi-dimensional math …"
"… but if you are wrong …"
"What's gonna happen if I'm wron'? A little overload he'eh and the'eh with some puff followed by an explosion er two. Relax! Not my first time! I ain' pullin' that shit out of my aft!"
"… but your math is wrong! It will cause time warps!"
"Like we nev'eh handled time warps befo'eh …"
"This is not safe!"
"If yeh like safety so much, why don'' yeh bondmate with it?"
"Huh?"
"Percepteh, I don' slaggin' ca'eh whateveh the scrap they told yeh back on Cybehtron, but take it from me, science ain' about 'why?'."
"Then what is it about?"
"It's 'bout 'why not?'. Why not test out a theory? The consequences will clearly show how true it is to! Why not build robots that can transform into dinosaurs? Why not build a time machine? Why not build a matteh replicateh? Why not tweak the TV remote to gehnehrate ripples in the space-time continuum?"
"Whoa! You accomplished that?"
"Speakin' of that, if anybody asks, yeh made that."
"What? No I didn't!"
"Yeah, yeh did, teh impress me!"
"Huh?"
"Fer the two of us to begin gettin' along!"
"Oh! Um, what?"
"Ratchet dropped by some time ago, askin' if we were gettin' along."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, I told him that we were."
"Oh?"
"I told him that yeh made a TV remote able to cause holes in space-time continuum …"
"Yeh said ripples …"
"Ripples, holes, whateveh, big difference. Point is, the reason yeh did it was teh show me just how good yeh're, got it?"
"Affirmative."
"So if anybody asks, yeh built the TV remote."
"Affirmative."
"Ok, now let's …"
"Wheeljack?"
"Yeah?"
"Do I need to do something to impress you?"
"Well, it's all up teh yeh. Yer a good kid, just need teh loosen up," the engineer looked at the microscope, "a lot."
"And teh do what I say," the car added after thinking about it for a few more seconds.
"I see."
"So, wanna play pong against Teletraan I?"
"Weren't we in the middle of building a quantum reactor?"
"That can wait."
"It will explode …"
"Nothin' we can't take ca'eh of lateh …"
"The reactor is overloading …"
"Then we'll turn it off …"
"And it shall explode in a few minutes …"
"Pehrfect, jus' 'nough time fer a pong match!"
"If the hydrogen atoms hit the Cybertronium …"
"The'eh 's a chance that they won't!"
"Why are you so laid back?"
"Why not?"
"… fulfills his duties like nobody else …"
"Um, Wheeljack?"
"Yeah?"
"Why aren't we working, again?"
Research, experimentation and discovery were Perceptor's life for as long as he could remember. Not a day passed that he didn't dedicate most of his time to science, unveiling new horizons that the universe had to offer. The microscope, when he heard that he will be working with Wheeljack, the legendary engineer that was responsible for some of the greatest inventions in the history of their race, nearly fainted from joy. The red mech pictured the two of them making astonishing breakthroughs, fascinating research and world-breaking theories applied into practice, changing life as they knew it, making the world a better place.
"We are workin'! Weren't yeh listenin'?"
"I fail to see how this is work …"
It was a very good concern, if they were caught sitting on a mountain in chairs 'borrowed' form the recroom, sipping fine grade, enjoying the sunrise as Wheeljack kept launching modified acid pellets into a near-by mountain using a tiny catapult he made out of an old pizza box, duct tape, diamond string and a plastic cup from Paw-bucks.
"We're testin'!"
Sighing, Perceptor remembered all the marvelous fantasies he dreamt up before coming to The Ark about these days. The scientist was expecting a heaven to uncovering secrets of the cosmos, but instead they were engaging themselves in very different kind of activity which made him very confused and uneasy.
"So what are we testing?"
"We're testin' to see if these materials in this combination can withstand the stress of throwin' an acid pellet."
"What good will it do us?"
"Percepteh, yer young, I understand. 'Re yer audio receptehs workin' propehrly? I'm 'bout to drop some knowledge he'eh."
"Yes, they are functioning at their full capacity."
"Listen here. Life's a very interestin' thing. One day yer on Cybertron, sittin' in a lab next to Starscream and makin' some random scrap for some project, 'notheh day yer on the battlefield, killin' yer brothers to live 'till tomorrow; 'notheh day yeh leave Cybehrtron teh find otheh sources of energon, crash land on some planet, sleep fer millions of years, wake up and all this happens!"
"What are you saying?"
"Two things. One, yeh neveh know what'll happen next, maybe yeh'll need this catapult teh defend yer comrades tomorrow er a Dinobot teh save yer aft. Trust me, all this scrap came out teh be mo'eh useful than yeh think. The answeh teh a problem may come from a completely diffehrent field."
"Hm, I never thought about it this way. That is a very good point, in a way …"
"Thing numbeh two, we all need teh have fun. Look at anybody's life 'n' yeh'll see that it consists of handlin' one crisis after 'notheh. Death, loss, all these things 're present but yeh know what keeps us from losin' our minds in all this scrap?"
"What?"
"Ca'eh teh guess?"
"Hm, discipline?"
"Wrong."
"Belief in the Autobot cause?"
"Wrong."
"What is it?"
"Fun."
Standing behind a table, mixing chemicals, doing research, testing out theories among other things; that was the definition of 'fun' that Perceptor developed for himself over the years. Taking a sip from his cube of fine grade he thought about what his colleague said.
Fun. His whole life he lived in a lab, barely interacting with anyone else other than his fellow scientists, talking about the matters that made up the cosmos.
"What do you mean?"
"See, kid, we all need to unwind somehow. Damn! Did yeh see that? It hit the freakin' rock! Sorry, back on tracks. Me, well, my job is my hobby …"
"Performing 'important' research?"
"Come on, we're all 'lone he'eh, I'm just screwin' 'round most of the time and see how many good things came out of it?"
"Right. Continue."
"Well, that kinda was part of my point, yeh need to have fun not just durin' the job but also outside of the job. Yeh know, go out, drink with yer friends, find a hobby otheh than work! Go out and live yer freakin' life fer cryin' out loud! Get yerself a nice berth partneh …"
A berth partner? Perceptor never wanted to admit to anyone, even himself, that he always felt queasy about this particular subject. In the back of his head he always wanted to get to know someone and see them this way … but it was just too hard. The never ending stream of stories and drama made the scientist quite paranoid about the very idea.
"Wheejack …"
"Yeah?"
"Have you ever, um …"
"What?"
"Erm …"
"Percepteh, come on, we're all Autobots he'eh."
"No, never mind."
"Aw, come on! Tell me! What's on yer mind?"
"Um, would it be appropriate if I asked if you ever have, um …"
"What? Relax, take yer time."
"Have you ever berthed with anyone?"
"Eh, a couple of times, why?"
"Oh, no, just, um, wondering."
"Well," Wheeljack looked the red mech in the optic sensors for a few seconds, "If yer havin' some trouble, yeh should go talk to Smokescreen, he's our psychologist in a manneh of speakin'."
"Oh? Oh, right," the microscope looked at the sunrise and took a slow sip, "Yes, perhaps I shall."
"Oh! I think I just hit Bumblebee …"
"What?" Perceptor nearly jumped from his chair.
"Oh, wait, neveh mind, it's just Huffeh."
"What …"
"Relax! He's a tough kid."
"Um," the scientist looked on the screaming gold and blue blur, with worry in his optics, "are you sure?"
"Yeah, shit like that happens to him all the time!"
"Well, if you say so."
For a few minutes the two sat in silence, looking at the symphony of color Earth was pleasing their optics with, slowly but inevitably turning into a new day.
"So I never got the full roster of what it is that you do on The Ark," the young mech decided to break the silence, "What do your duties consist of?"
"Frag if I know."
"… puts his comrades above all else, even himself …"
"Percepteh!" Wheeljack barged into the lab, kicking the door open, "'re you still workin'? It's 3 a.m.! Wait, what time is it in Cybertronian? Hm, damn, I guess I lived on Earth a little too much. In any case, Percepteh!"
"HAH! YES? WHAT?" The red Autobot violently woke up, jumping up from his seat, making some of the papers fly in all directions, "No! My research!"
"Urgh," the car helped his friend collect all the papers as both began organizing his notes, "So why 're yeh up so late 'gain? Ew! Yeh drooled oveh some of these!"
"I am so sorry! I must have dozed off …"
"NO!" Wheeljack slammed his hand into his chest plate, widening his optics and dramatizing every word, "REALLY? You dozed off? Goodness gracious! Whateveh was your first clue?"
"Um …"
"What did I tell ya 'bout recharge?"
"To, eh," Preceptor lowered his head, "to get it every day."
"And?"
"I am sorry, I will make it a point to …"
"No! Yeh ain' gettin' the point! What if yeh were workin' on yer cosmic rust research? Or worse?"
"Oh, right …"
"Percepteh, I don' want to protoform-sit yeh all the time, I can't do that 24/7."
"Y-y-yes, I just need to finish this paragraph …"
"Wrong! Yeh are comin' with me!"
"…but …"
"Hey!" With a strong hand, Wheeljack pulled the scientist off his chair onto his feet, and leaned in face-to-face with the other mech, "Yer comin' with me. End of discussion."
"R-right. Where are we going?"
"I am draggin' yer aft to the bar."
"Bar? What is a bar?"
"Wait," the car stopped in the middle of the hall and turned to the microscope, "What?"
"What?"
"You neveh been to a bar befo'eh?"
"Um, I am not familiar as to what constitutes a bar."
"Oh, fer slag's sake! Do I have to teach yeh everythin'?"
"Well, this is …" Perceptor looked around, "… a new experience …"
The bar on The Ark was installed in one of the more remote rooms, with dimmed lights, a hint of smoke in the air, and an old style human air conditioner that was slowly spinning on the ceiling. The TV was showing some random channel, making great background noise; not so loud that you couldn't hear your conversation yet not so quiet that you couldn't hear it either. Examining the facility a little closer, he noticed Smokescreen tending to the "customers", pouring them strange liquids from strangely shaped bottles. A trio of Autobots made themselves noticed by suddenly bursting into laughter for short few seconds and getting back to their own devices. The red mech didn't know any of these people, on the base he only really knew Ratchet, Optimus Prime, occasionally bumped into Prowl and Jazz, Bumblebee and Wheeljack with whom he was working with on a daily basis.
"Why are we here?"
"Think of this as an experiment."
"Um, pardon?"
"Urgh, come on! Yeh should be able to come up with some random bullshit reasons fer yeh teh do things! Come on! Try!"
"Hm …"
He wasn't tired or anything- the nap he had unwillingly taken managed to restore some of his systems back to acceptable operational state- the red mech was just confused as to how approach this.
"Well, I do not know that many people on The Ark."
"Right, good! Go on!"
"I should get to know people!"
"Getting the'eh! Just a little more!"
"And, eh, um …"
"Hm, protoform steps, that's all right."
"No! Give me a second! I can figure this out! Oh!" The Autobot raised his index finger. "How about this: I am accomplishing a number of tasks at the same time! Getting to know my brothers and sisters is one. Two, widen my range of experience! Like you said! Some of the best solutions come from completely different fields!"
"'N' if yeh don' show up on time fer work tomorrow?"
"Um, eh …"
"Want a hint?"
"No, actually, yes …"
"Yer recharge equipment."
"My recharge equipment? Oh! It malfunctioned! I called yeh to …"
"Wrong!"
"Huh?"
"If yer recharge equipment was malfunctionin' yeg should call Ratchet, not me."
"Then what?"
"Yer recharge equipment stopped gettin' power and the problem is in the wires in the walls of The Ark."
"Oh, oh! And then I called you …"
"… and we stayed up all night tryin' to figure out …"
"… what was wrong with the wires!"
"Congratulations, kid! Yer makin' nice progress!"
"My, thank you! Doesn't feel right though …"
"Percepteh, you can't live yer whole life without doin' mistakes. Make a few! Spice up yer life! Remembeh we talked the otheh day when we were tweakin' the propulsion systems on the human fighteh jets? From what you told me so far, you had no drama, no angst, no comedy, nothin' goin' on in yer life! And how did it make yeh feel?"
"It was …"
"Borin'."
"Yes, I guess."
"This is yer chance teh get somethin' into yer life! Take it! Cease it! Ravish it!"
"Yes! Yes, I will!"
"Smokescreen!" Wheeljack came up to the barmech. "Let's start with somethin' light, a few shots of tequila for my friend here. Whe'eh's Tracks?"
"Oooooh …"
Perceptor onlined, headache making it feel like his metallic skull was breaking into two. Bringing both servos to his face, he rubbed the optics and tried gettin' up, slowly bringin' his optics to an operational state.
It was a small room filled with all sorts of stuff. A collection of random mechanisms spanned on the shelves along with stacks of papers and quietly beeping computers. A tiny desk was almost built into the shelf, separating it from another, too filled with strange things.
Carefully getting off the berth, he began sensing a strange feeling in his body, just below his codpiece. A tiny bit wobbling in place, the red mech looked down but didn't notice anything different.
"I should run some diagnostics on this, hopefully it's nothing. Wait, what happened last night? Where am I …"
Captivated by the contents of the shelves, his optics wondered off to taking a closer look at them.
"Don' touch that!"
"HAAAH!" Scared of the sudden voice breaking the silence Perceptor jumped on the shelf and looked at the berth.
"Wheejack?"
"WATCH OUT!"
"Wha…" Before he could realize what was happening, the shelf, now with its gravity center shifted, quickly tilted and fell on both Autobots.
"AAAAAAAAAHHH!"
"AAAAAAAAHH!"
"YOU AND ME?"
"WHAT THE HELL DID WE DO?"
The memories of last night slowly began coming back to them, it was not too pretty, neither was it that ugly.
"Ok, so, we began drinkin' …"
"… you introduced me to Tracks …"
"… you two began talkin' …the'eh was a pink kangaroo …"
"What?"
"I remembeh a pink kangaroo."
"Oh! Right! Sorry, that was me, Powehglide was wearin' a purple cat costume."
"Wh…" Peceptor squinted, "What?"
Taking another second to see how it made any sense, he couldn't help but utter:
"What?"
"I am pretty shu'eh I saw Mirage in a yellow horse costume …"
Unable to process the new information, Preceptor felt his face plates arrange in an expression he didn't know was possible.
"Um, ok, lets skip that part," Wheeljack put his one servo on his hip and with the other rubbed his optics, "What happened after yeh two began talkin'?"
"I-I think he dragged me to one of the groups in the bar …"
"Yeh remember their names?"
"I think I recall Hound, Gears, Cliffjumper, Windcharger …"
"All right, I was on the otheh side of the bar keepin' an eye on ya."
"… one by one they left …"
"… weren't yeh alone with Tracks?"
"Yes, I believe I was."
"Didn' he take yeh to his quartehs?"
"Um, if he did, than how did I manage to end up here?"
Taking a minute to think about it and see if they can remember anything else, the two fell silent.
"Oh, by The Matrix …"
"What? Wheeljack? You remembered something?"
"Yes! Yeh came back!"
"Um, we need to find Tracks."
"Hey guys!" The tricolored mech was plenty happy to see the two Autobots outside of the lab. "What brings you to the young 'n' beautiful moi?"
"What happened last night? Yeh took Pehcepteh out of the bar!"
"Yes! Please, do tell us what happened!"
"Oh, interesting, were we having a tad of a wild night?"
"Tracks!"
"Fine, fine, no need to get agitated. I took Perceptor out for a short walk, then I bumped into Hound and Mirage who asked me to, um, do something... that part is rather private."
"Affirmative, go on."
"I couldn't leave Perceptor in this state all by himself so we walked him back to the bar, we didn't enter though, we left straight to do that, um, thing. Hee hee."
"Huh. Anythin' else?"
"No, I am afraid that is all that I have seen of the lovely young addition to our team," Tracks looked at Perceptor with a mischievous glint in his optics, "Should I have known earlier of you, I assure you, I would have prepared accordingly …"
"Nu-uh," Wheeljack raised his hand and pointed his index finger at him, "This one yeh stay the slag away from."
"Aw."
"All right, so, what happened next? Do yeh remembeh?"
"I think I saw Lazerbeak somewhere …"
"Yeah, whateveh, Lazehbeak spyin' on us, whateveh, we can handle that shit lateh …"
"Um, all right, back at the bar …"
"… you came up teh me …"
"… I think I wanted to …"
Both again fell in silence, their metallic hearts quickly speeding up, pumping coolants among other liquids faster and faster as the two slowly turned their heads to look at one another. When their optics met, they stared for a few more seconds when suddenly they remembered what happened.
"GHAAAAAA!"
"AAAAAAH!"
"So …"
Wheeljack and Perceptor were sitting in the lab, the engineer on one of the tables and the scientist in one of the chairs, a grave silence filled the room as awkwardness just kept stuffing the atmosphere.
"… any ideas?"
"Well," Perceptor, too, tried to make some kind of dialog, "I do not believe we can pretend like this never happened."
"Why not? Actually, neveh mind that. We should definitely talk about this."
"Affirmative."
More awkward silence made the two mechs very uneasy and perform random gestures with their servos, trying to find something to do.
"Wow, nice talk we're havin', huh?"
"All right, we absolutely must keep this just between the two of us."
"Yeah."
"Eh."
"Well, regardless of whether we got feelin's for each otheh, we shouldn' start anythin' eitheh way."
"The protocol dictates against such personal relationships."
"Well, maybe, occasionally, we could …"
"Oh?"
"Teh relieve stress."
"Oh," Perceptor looked off to the side, stroking his chin. Finally he turned to Wheeljack, "I see no harm in, um, such an arrangement. I mean we both are indeed under a lot of stress …"
"… it's a chance fer us teh get teh know each otheh a lil' betteh …"
"… get a 'feel of one another' as the humans say …"
"Should we get drunk before doin' it?"
"Haha, preferably not."
"Oh, crap …"
"What?"
"Lazehbeak …"
"Ok, is that thing ready?"
"Indeed."
"Right, is that otheh thing ready?"
"Operational at 14 %"
"Heh, could've been worse. All right, let's start."
"… but Wheeljack …"
"14 % 's best I got out of this hunk of junk last time!"
"No, it's not that …"
"What then?"
"You are holding the wrong thing …"
"What?" The engineer looked at the device he was holding and clearly saw in tiny letters on one of its ends 'Artist Supply Source' carved out in the brown surfacing. "Oh, what the …"
Taking a closer look at what he was holding, Wheeljack with every second became more convinced that it was a box, not a half-afted gravity manipulator he made in the last minute from a broken energy capacitor and a pile of refrigerators.
"What's this?"
"Oh, this is a, um, gift, more or less, for Sunstreaker."
"Eh? A gift, huh?" Wheeljack looked with confusion as he put it back on the table, "What's goin' on?"
"Oh, something happened and, um, yes, I am just trying to, um, establish some connections."
"Oh, connections, eh?"
"Wheeljack …" Perceptor looked at his colleague with a tone of sadness in his voice, "I wanted to tell you …"
"No, no, don' worry 'bout it!" The Lancia Stratos didn't quite know which was stronger, his sadness that their little "arrangement" was coming to an end or happy that Perceptor may get himself into something real, something worth sticking to.
"Are you positive?"
"Percepteh, come on," Wheeljack raised his hands in a shrug, "We're friends, right? That means we gotta support each otheh no matteh what. What we were havin' was fun, convenient, but if there's a one in a million chance that yer gonna get somethin' real, all I can say is 'go fer it!'!"
"Oh, wow …"
"Hey," the white mech put his servo on the other robot's shoulder, "If yeh want any help er advice er whateveh, yeh know yeh can always count on me."
"Th-thank you," the microscope smiled and hugged his partner, "You are the best friend I ever had!"
"Heh, what can I say," he returned the affection, "I'm quite honored teh hear that!"
"I dare hope that one day I will return you all the help and new experiences you had me have!"
"Pfsh, don' let it botheh yeh, we're all Autobots he'eh."
"… and thus concludes my 'Role Model' assignment. Thank you."
"Perceptor," Alpha Trion looked at the young student, head resting on his hand, almost face palming, a smile being arranged by his face plates, lowering his hand to silence the rare applause.
"Yes, sir?"
"Those presentations were to be submitted online."
"Oh? I-I-I was not informed of that."
"You know what else, my dear student?" The old mech sat up in his chair with an expression of calm amusement on his face.
"Um," Perceptor couldn't help but freeze in place, widening his optics like a scared petro-rabbit, knees almost hitting each other, hands slightly trembling; scrunching a little the top of the poster he prepared for his presentation, making some of the students aww at the sight, "There is a quiz today?"
"This is the final exam."
"Oh, dear …"
P.S. Don't worry, Perceptor passed, Alpha Trion remained very amused for vorns.
P.P.S. I was fighting myself whether I should have thrown in Bonecrusher into the classroom to say "Well, you are boned." or Swindle recording this to post in on Bot-tube but I decided not to do either because … well … why would either of them be in a class room with young Autobots? Well, if you want, you can always put these in:
Swindle's:
"You know what else, my dear student?" the old mech sat up in his chair with an expression of calm amusement on his face.
"Oh, man," Swindle whispered as he took out his phone and activated the camera function, "this is so going on Bot-tube."
Bonecrusher's:
"This is the final exam."
"Oh, dear …"
"Well," Bonecrusher called out from the back rows, "you are boned."
But see how it doesn't exactly look nice with all those? Well, it is up to you, really, here is the whole thing for you to judge for yourselves:
"… and thus concludes my 'Role Model' assignment. Thank you."
"Perceptor," Alpha Trion looked at the young student, head resting on his hand, almost face palming, a smile being arranged by his face plates, lowering his hand to silence the rare applause.
"Yes, sir?"
"Those presentations were to be submitted online."
"Oh? I-I-I was not informed of that."
"You know what else, my dear student?" The old mech sat up in his chair with an expression of calm amusement on his face.
"Oh, man," Swindle whispered, as he took out his phone and activated the camera function, "This is so going on Bot-tube."
"Um," Perceptor couldn't help but freeze in place, widening his optics like a scared petro-rabbit, knees almost hitting each other, hands slightly trembling; scrunching a little the top of the poster he prepared for his presentation, making some of the students aw at the sight, "There is a quiz today?"
"This is the final exam."
"Oh, dear …"
"Well," Bonecrusher called out from the back rows, "You are boned."
If you prefer this ending over the other one, good for you but it kinda seems … tacky to me … so really it is up to you, I provided both version just in case.
P.P.P.S. Lazerbeak was not found, but just between you and me, no, it did not record Wheeljack and Perceptor interfacing, instead it taped Mirage, Hound and Tracks doing it. Did they weep? Good question …
P.P.P.P.S. In case you have or have not noticed, I kinda tied it in with C.M.D.'s "It's What You Get" story and more or less tried to base it in somewhat of a same setting for a few reasons, the most important reason being me knowing that I will NOT do a good job if I did Perceptor x Lambotwins of my own. Why you ask? I have another series coming up and it will involve them all~
P.P.P.P.P.S. No Huffers were purposefully hurt in the making of this episode.
P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Tracks wanted to hit that … Wheeljack-blocked … it was hot, the drunk interface, oh, it was so hot! Wheeljack is optic candy not just for Perceptor you know … }=3
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Wheeljack loves his matteh replicateh. Haha, I can see Wheeljack handling a matter replicator and the captions says "Gonna get that bitch a matter replicator, bitches love matter replicators."
P… (too tired to write all the P's … but not too tired to write this, much longer thing for the P.S. section … wow … you know what? I think will just type the whole thing here, might as well, right? Just one problem … I can't remember what I wanted to write … just give me a second … oh! Right! Smokescreen and the bar! Well, come on! I can see Smokescreen being an epic barman! And that … costume thing … if YOU can come up with an explanation, please do …) …P.S. I can see Smokescreen being a barman among other things, I mean, come on! Why not? He is awesome enough! And the costumes thing, well, come on, they are drunk, more or less, and shit happens! They were having fun! Makes me wonder how it led to that … if you can come up with an explanation, please do …I kinda have ideas of my own like some kind of a bet or an insight joke or something … but it would be nice to hear other people's takes on this.
P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. I should probably go home now … they are closing Second Cup … aaaaaaannnnyyy minute now … HAHA! Check out Ghenghis Khan vs The Easter Bunny on Youtube! I LOVE IT XD … but ya mostly the Second Cup thing … I should probably leave … and get my 360 bucks back from mom … wonder if I will ever get them back … that is a good question … aw man I am the only guy in here! The other 4 customers and the two employees are all girls! Where are all the guys? No, dun get me wrong, I don't mind, it's just weird is all … I like Second Cup, their stuff maybe overpriced but they got Wi-Fi … and it is nicer than Starbucks … Ok, now the employees are talking to me … huh, something about closing, something about Second Cup, I think they are trying to tell me something here … I should probably stop typing and actually listen to what they have to say … nah … too lazy to stop … 4[pru01tj13[io4th1gegrohergoherg;oeg;3o4h3oi4htg3oirjnyguijnklm, .knl, m.
Author's Notes:
Well, hope you enjoyed it! It was quite a read, eh?
Like I said, no Huffers were purposefully hurt ... note the underline ... it reinforces the statement that no harm was dealt to them on purpose ... it absolutely doesn't make it sound sarcastic or anything.
Why wouldn't Tracks want a piece of that smart smexy scientist? He is cute! Although I would assume his mother *nudge nudge* would want him to hang out with a better crowd of people ...
It did kinda start as a funny fic but in the end it kinda got a little depressing ... well ... i hope the last bit with Perceptor's final evaluation helped out a little! I believe that it is my duty as an author (that's right, I am an author, I am writing two book series each 26 books) to expand my horizons and see if I can mess around with the reader's mood - if it provokes any reaction from the audience then it is art! On some level that is what I think so I try to mix in all sorts of stuff together, try new things, push myself to do better, stuff like that! And not just in the world of drawing and fanfiction, I try to better myself in the real world too! That FREE (no, seriously, FREE) psychiatrist is really helping me! She said I am border-line insane! XD AWESOME!
Well, one last thing I guess ...
We are all trying to find love, someone to care for us and for us to care for them. It can be scary, feelings WILL get hurt, it may seem completely dark and hopeless but it is only as dark and hopeless as we see it. It is up to you what pain is: is it something that destroys you OR is it something that you can use to improve yourself? That goes for pretty much anything, really. Wheeljack let go of Perceptor; was it meant to be? Maybe, maybe not, a decision has been made and he will let things play out the way they do, occasionally tipping the scales ... or plain-out blowing them up ... Are we masters of our own destiny? Only one way to find out!
Thanks to C.M.D. for editing, reviewing, laughing, kicking me and laughing some more at my remains! XD