Disclaimer - Transformers are entirely the property of IDW/Hasbro/Dreamworks/Takara and likely many others with highly trained attack lawyers. I own nothing.
GRINDING GEARS
"...and there's a squeak in my right shoulder that's been playing up for vorns, not to mention this odd sensation I've been getting in my..."
Wheeljack tried to tune the rest of it out, Ratchet owed him for this, three, no four cubes of his good energon. Minimum.
"...and then there's the crack in..." Gears paused "Wheeljack are you even listening to me? I don't want to online tomorrow and find out you've reformatted me as a dinosaur or something."
"Eah?" Pulled out of his train of thought and forced to think on the spot "No, no just tryin' ta line up the symptoms with the supplies we've got, think I might have just the thing."
Crossing the med bay to a stack of crates he began to dig through the closest one, muttering quietly as he searched until there was a triumphant sounding exclamation and a grey hand emerged holding, well, something. It had spikes, lots of them, and a wicked looking energon blade mounted along the bottom edge.
"Now if you'll just settle yourself on a berth we can get started."
Gears face was a picture of panic, optics locked on the tool "But it's rusty!"
"Nahh it's just a bit old, good sturdy piece a hardware" He flicked a switch and the energon blade came to life with a faint hum, a small manic gleam flicked across his optics "They really don't build 'em like this anymore."
Wheeljack advanced brandishing the tool, matched step for step by Gears moving backwards until his legs collided with one of the minibot sized berths "Maybe I'll come back later." voice at least an octave above it's normal level.
"Are ya sure? I mean it's all charged up now and everything." giving the tool an almost loving look.
Gears left the med bay at speed, muttering darkly about insane engineers and lamenting on the quality of medical service on base.
"Don't think I've ever seen him move that quickly in my life." Ratchet observed dryly as he emerged from his office. "What is that thing anyway?" Gesturing to the lethal looking device in Wheeljack's hand.
"This?" Wheeljack shrugged "Fragged if I know. Spike found it in one a the lower cargo decks when we were clearing some space last month." He turned the device over in his hands studying it "Been meaning ta go through everything and identify it, just haven't had the time."
Ratchet's face creased into a rare, but entirely heartfelt grin as he laughed "Remind me again why you always lose at cards?"
Comments/crit (be as harsh as you like) on pace and grammar always appreciated.