Title: The Ironhide Preparation course
By: Anvarah
Summary: 'Hide helps to prepare Epps for a Tournament.
Disclaimer:
Me: *Looks around and sees 'Hide 'training' Epps* "I would say I own Transformers but he's still in Missile range." *Walks off*
Muse: *laughs* "Smart kid."
Chapter One:
Robert Epps was seriously considering quitting the tournament. For the last three hours the autobot: Ironhide had been drilling him in an attempt to prepare him for the competition he had mentioned earlier that day and no amount of complaints had deterred the mech from his self-appointed mission. Muscles aching, he finished the last of his push-ups and began the chin-ups that his 'mentor' had assigned him. Wishing for the hundredth time he had kept his mouth shut in the rec-room that morning.
Pain rippled through his straining arms and mid-rift as he pulled himself up to the bar he had been supplied with as sweat trickled down his back, between his shoulder blades, and down his chest and stomach, visible - having discarded his t-shirt earlier.
"'Hide, this isn't necessary. It's not that type of competition" Epps reasoned; attempting to change the mech's point of view.
Ironhide merely grunted in reply, effectively ignoring his student's complaint. Sighing, Epps completed another two chin-ups before dropping to the floor and scooping up one of the water bottles he had set aside when he had begun Ironhide's training regime.
Taking a large mouthful of the blessedly cool liquid, he stretched a little and flexed his arms and hands to encourage the blood to circulate in his aching limbs.
"Okay, that's chin-ups done." Epps said, glancing at his watch finally noticing the time. "Its 12:48 'Hide, can I please go eat now? Come on man, I'm starving here."
"Fine," Ironhide growled in response, "After you refuel we'll begin running exercises; I need to go see Wheeljack about 'certain supplies' I require for your training. So take your time, but be back before 1400 hours."
Epps relaxed at the NEST Cafeteria table, with his large meal in front of him and his best friend and captain, Will Lennox, beside him. "I'm telling ya," he ranted to Will, biting into a large chicken drumstick dripping with gravy, "'Hide's outta control; he's having me do all these exercises. Man, I can't feel my legs!"
"He does know what type of competition it is, doesn't he?" Will chuckled good-naturedly, while smirking at Epp's exaggerated complaint. Taking a bite of his own lunch he ducked the spoonful of peas his comrade aimed at him, before flinging a floret of broccoli back as retaliation.
Who says adults don't have food fights? :D
So guys. What do you think? Any ideas for exercise torture activities?
Input and criticism appreciated.
Read and Review.