Nature of the Beast
One-Shot: Stray Cat Strut
*Inspired by Maria Shadow's story "Two-Stroke" and Ravens-of-Morea's "The Kitten"! Thank you ladies for such lovely little stories!*
*Also inspired by the cute art piece by Evelynism: "Grim x Kitty."
Charity for one enjoyed not rushing about like everyone else. Now, that didn't mean she wouldn't push her engine to the limit if someone got themselves hurt out in the field. Should anyone wind up with so much as a harmless mesh wound she would race to the ends of the planet to patch them up. That was why she was here in the first place. It was her duty as a medic to tend to the injured. Optimus had singled her out to help Bumblebee and his little rag-tag team for that very reason, and that was just what she was going to do. The spectral Prime had chosen her specifically to watch over them and the others who had come with her, to ensure they all made it out of this ghastly situation in one piece.
After all, if you were dealing with a possible catastrophe in the making, you might as well send an expert – and she was labeled as one of the best healers in the Iacon Triage Facility by the medical board. Not that she ever bragged about it. She was just...good at what she did. To her it was no more complicated than that. Others may compliment her skills and even flower her with praise on occasion, but she would never in her life boast to anyone.
She smiled, continuing with the routine system diagnostic she'd been meaning to do since arrival here. What with one thing and another she simply hadn't been able to get around to doing it. She'd just finished maintaining her kit of medical equipment, and every instrument gleamed as beautifully as if they had just been crafted. The simple but important task at hand allowed her mind to wander – and wonder. She wondered whether or not her supervisor was cross with her for her sudden departure from the clinic. She hadn't exactly given him much explanation. She felt she hadn't had the time to explain everything to him. There had been a sense of urgency in Optimus's tone – urgency she now understood. A prison break involving some of the meanest, cruelest, most dangerous Decepticons on record was no small matter. Would Knockout have believed her even if she had taken the time to explain what was going on? It wasn't like one bumped into the spirit of a Prime every solar cycle, much less given a mission by one.
The gentle femme shuttered her optics with a barely audible little sigh. When she got back she would explain everything to Knockout. He was probably worried sick about her by now, what with her going off with vague words about "something coming up." She hadn't even given him a hesitant return date. Actually, it was better that she hadn't come to think of it. Giving him a return date and then not appearing on that date would only make him worry more. Much as she hated not being clear with him, being vague had been the only sensible thing to do. Any clarification would have lost her time; possibly it could've resulted in further complications.
"Maiow!"
Her optics snapped back open. She looked around for a moment, puzzling over where the sound had come from and what had made the sound. Finally she caught a flash of movement by a row of old dirt bikes within fifteen feet of her station. Something slunk around behind them in a beautifully fluid motion – something small, tri-colored, and furry. The perpetrator soon ran out of cover, peeking out from behind a tire. Two hazel-green eyes stared back at her.
"Maiow!"
Standing there partly concealed by the tire and frame of a purple dirt bike was a small calico cat, its fuzzy tail swishing around abruptly. Its head tilted to the side as it tried to interpret what it was looking at. Another mew escaped its vocal chords, this one faint and quite curious sounding – even a bit fearful sounding. She didn't know much about cats but going by its size it couldn't be more than six or seven months old. It was skinny too, and its fur wasn't in the best of conditions either.
Charity smiled. "Well, hello there. You must be the stray Denny mentioned lurked around here. Are you looking for something? You hungry?"
The calico shrank away, eyes widening as its ears pinned back.
She knelt down, lowering her voice and cooing softly: "No, no. It's alright. I'm not gonna hurt you. Come on. Come on out. It's okay."
Slowly but surely the little feline let itself be coaxed out of hiding and towards the much larger Cybertronian. Charity made sure not to make any abrupt movements. She knew doing so might startle the poor thing. Within an Earth minute or so it was within arm's reach of her, tail a-flick. Her spark ached in sympathy and pain at how scrawny it looked now, up close. But it was still energetic and curious. One good sign she supposed.
Without hurrying, the femme reached a single hand out. She saw the feline flinch back out of suspicion and fear, but was encouraged to note it didn't bolt altogether. Her hand thus paused until it was relaxed again. But rather than move it forward she let the calico inch towards her as if in slow motion, its nostrils dilating rapidly as it sniffed at her. After what felt like an eternity its little wet nose touched the very tip of her second digit. She was further encouraged when it rubbed up against the extended digit, and even more so when it let her rub its head in return. She smiled at how friendly it was.
"There you go. See? I'm not gonna hurt you."
She continued lightly rubbing its head, smiling when her tactile network picked up a very soft vibration: purring. The little calico kit was purring.
"Think you could stay here? I'll go see if I can find something for you to munch on."
The kit looked up, blinked slowly and still purring. Charity didn't know whether or not it understood her words, but it sure acted like it did. And so she rose, intent on finding either Denny or his son. One of the two must have an idea of what a developing cat's diet consisted of, because she hadn't the faintest notion. She was a Cybertronian medic – not a terrestrial vet.
Grimlock lay on his belly in T-Rex form, indulging himself in a light mid-day nap. It was a hot, languid afternoon and nothing was really going on.
Like all beast-formers in power down, his audials and olfactory sensors remained partially active to alert of incoming dangers. Well, maybe not "dangers" here per say. Not yet anyway. Decepticons rarely made it past the walls, and with Sentenza lurking both inside and outside the place, they were probably too skittish to come anywhere near right now. To be honest he was, too. Not of Sentenza herself of course – during the day she was actually pretty friendly, joking, and shamelessly teasing (her target being Sideswipe, which was hilarious all by itself; Sideswipe's obliviousness and eagerness to befriend her just added to the hilarity). All around pretty easy to get along with. No, it was her alter-ego, the feared and revered Nightdemon of Kaon, he was truly scared of. He considered himself lucky to no longer be connected with the 'Cons. If he had still been with them, he would probably be dead right about now.
Oh, he knew they'd get the courage up eventually to storm the place – 'Cons were dumb like that – but for now it was nice to not have Steeljaw or his pack knocking down the gates. And it was nice to be able to kick back once in a while. No 'Cons, no Nightdemon, no 'Bots trying to arrest him. Might as well make the most of his down time. Knowing their luck it wouldn't last.
After a few breems had gone by, his olfactory sensors detected a scent, forcing him fully online. He gave a slight, toothy grin on recognizing it: Charity. She was the sweetest, cutest little medic he'd ever seen, and her photoharp was a power in itself. He'd seen that first night its fantastical ability – lulling Sentenza into power down, removing the threat of the Nightdemon. To be able to tame a monster – just...just wow. And her medical skills were just as awesome. Optimus had seriously outdone himself by picking her. They didn't have a medic, did they? Alright then, here you go – have The Sweetest Thing on the Face of Cybertron. Will that work?
Ha! Slag yeah it worked!
But when the scent faded, it told him she was headed elsewhere in the yard. And so he went back to his nap, plonking his helm back onto the ground.
The Dinobot was woken once more some little time later. Instead of a scent this time around, it felt like something warm, soft, and furry had decided to perch on his wide snout. Every so often he felt something just as soft and furry swish back and forth. There was some sort of soft vibrating along with it, too. He did his best to ignore the senses for a while, but with each swish and the constant thrumming vibrations his systems re-activated one by one. Finally, his optics snapped open, blurring as they re-calibrated to the bright noonday sun. Something white, brown, and black, small, and furry was curled up on his snout. What in the name of the Primes was...?
Grimlock went stiff as a post once his vision cleared. It was the little stray calico cat he'd seen slinking around the salvage yard once or twice, being fed occasionally by Russell. And it was snoozing on his snout.
"GAH!"
"Mai-eerow!" yowled the feline, startled at the sudden noise and movement of its bed. Quickly it leapt off his snout and scrambled for the safety of the shelves, slinking beneath the lowest one.
Bumblebee, Sideswipe, and Frostbite came running in then. Smokescreen came soon thereafter. All stared at the rather unusual sight in the commons: the big, burly Dinobot standing stiff as a statue, blue optics wide as he stared at a shelf as if he'd seen a ghost, clawed hands held close to him like a frightened sparkling. A faint whimpering noise escaped his vocalizer – so faint that only the Canipid heard it. What in the world could scare Grimlock like this? Had Clampdown invaded the yard or something?
"Grim? Buddy? You okay?" Sideswipe asked, approaching. "What's wrong?"
Silently the Dinobot pointed towards the shelf with a shaking hand, rasping: "It's back. I-It touched me; it was on me!"
The group focused their attention to where he was pointing, but at first could see nothing. Frostbite grew curious and trotted forward, following a rather unusual scent he'd detected once or twice before. Crouching down, he stuck his snout under the bottom shelf, sniffing rapidly. Annoyingly he couldn't fit his whole helm under so he could only go by smell, not sight. But that wasn't going to stop him. He trusted his olfactory sensors more than his optics.
He'd just about found the source when an aggravated growling and hiss met his audials. A wash of fear pheromones assaulted his olfactory sensors. Moments later what felt like a series of tiny needles slashed and swatted harmlessly against his metal hide. He drew back rapidly, yanking his snout out, shaking his helm and letting out a startled whine. Something was definitely under there. Wasn't Cybertronian at all. It had sounded...it had sounded like a terrestrial feline. A terrified, slightly aggressive feline. Grimlock couldn't seriously be scared of a harmless domestic cat...could he?
[Cat.] Frostbite reported. [Scared. Won't come out. Think I accidentally made sure of that.]
Bumblebee cracked a grin as Smokescreen laughed. Strongarm smirked in mingled amusement and sympathy. Poor Grimlock. He really wasn't a Decepticon in any way. A 'Con would not be scared silly by a poor little stray cat. Actually, a 'Con probably would've stepped on it rather than scream like a horrified sparkling. An Autobot on the other hand? An Autobot very well might panic and scream. Their sparks were too sensitive for their own good sometimes. Grimlock's was obviously no exception. He seemed just as scared of the cat as it was of him.
Denny and Russell arrived on the scene at that point, Charity in tow. The older human held a dish with some raw, chopped up shrimp on it.
"What's going on here? What's up with Grimlock?" Denny demanded.
"Apparently Grim had an 'encounter' with the stray. Decided to take a nap on him or something. He reacted and now it's hiding over there – just under the bottom shelf." Bumblebee explained, still grinning broadly. "It's just brave and or scared enough that it had a swat at Frostbite. So good luck coaxing it out."
Charity gazed at the space under the shelf for a short time as the others attempted to calm the Dinobot down. If the poor thing was as scared as 'Bee made it out to be, it might not come out even for the food. They may just have to leave it there and hope that it ate some of it. But perhaps she could calm it down – coax it out of hiding? Maybe she could even allay Grimlock's fears a little by convincing him to hold it for a klik or two. The poor feline wasn't dangerous. It was just hungry, scared, and confused.
"Could you give me the plate? Maybe I can coax the poor thing out." she offered.
Denny held the small plate of shrimp up to her: "Give it your best shot, sweetheart. If you can manage it I'll officially say you're a miracle worker."
She took the plate and thus walked over to the shelf. Kneeling down, she very slowly extended her hand half-way beneath it, holding it out level and just an inch off the ground. She lowered her voice and crooned in the same gentle, soft-as-silk manner as before:
"Come on. Come on out. It's me. I've got something for you, just like I promised."
Nothing. The feline stayed where it was, brown-tipped ears ears back and hazel-green eyes round. A low, warning growl came from its throat.
"It's alright. Grim didn't mean to scare you. I think you scared him as much as he scared you. Come on out. You must be hungry."
For what felt like an eternity nothing happened. Just when she was about to give up hope and simply lay the plate down, she saw the little calico kitten inch forward. Its own famished hunger was finally overpowering its fear. While encouraging in one aspect, it made her spark twinge in pain. Only a truly starving animal would forego its fearful judgement entirely, and so swiftly. She wondered how long it had gone without food – a day? Two days? Three? And what about water? Water was a requirement for life here – like Energon was for her species.
"Russell? Could you go get a bowl of cold water, too?" she requested softly.
Russell nodded and darted off in the direction of the small diner that doubled as a kind of house for the two humans. Thus, she went back to her coaxing.
It took a while. To be precise it took about twenty Earth minutes. But in the end, Charity emerged the victor.
They had all watched in awe as the little calico finally slunk out of hiding, following the plate of food and bowl of water held in each hand. Once the kitten was out in the open she put the two dishes down and let it eat and drink its fill. She found the odd way it lapped the water amusing – tongue flicking out, curling up at the tip, then shooting back into its tiny mouth. It rather reminded her of a conveyor belt in a way.
Denny had gawked, wide-eyed and open-mouthed: "Oh. My. God. You actually did it."
And now, at that very moment, the kitten sat cleaning itself under Charity's protection, running its tongue over its mouth to remove any scraps and then delicately licking its paws. The femme medic had found that a little peculiar, as no food scraps had fallen on its paws. But it turned out it was doing so to wet the fur and use its paws to scrub its face clean. Hm. Very tidy little thing it was. Were all felines like this?
The moment it was done with that important task it set its sights on the medic. Giving a happy, almost grateful sounding mewl, it trotted up and coiled around her heel strut, purring strongly enough for her to hear it loud and clear now. Charity returned the friendly gesture, carefully scratching under its tiny chin. She must've hit a sweet spot somewhere there because the kitten started leaning heavily to one side, eyes half-closed in pleasure as its purrs grew louder still. She giggled when it lost its balance, tumbling over on one side.
"You're just the sweetest little fluff ball in the world, aren't you?" she cooed, dangling a digit over its head. "Yes you are, yes you are! Aw!"
Sideswipe couldn't help grinning as he watched the kitten eye the digit, pawing at it with teensy claws carefully retracted. A few times it swiped as if to bat the digit away. Honestly, how could Grimlock be scared to death of such an adorable little piece of fuzz like this? It was like an itty-bitty cotton ball with limbs. Even its mouthful of tiny white fangs was cute somehow. And those eyes? The cute level there was practically lethal.
Charity winced a little as that selfsame mouth of teensy fangs bit down on her digit while its tiny claws dug into the metal. But they just weren't sharp enough to pierce through. Very slowly she lifted the digit up and nearly laughed when the kitten absolutely refused to loosen its grip. She soon managed to gingerly detach it and let it tumble into her open palm.
"Come on now. I'm not that tasty, am I?"
The kitten gave her an oddly intelligent look, pawing and mewling up at her almost like it was saying: "Um...yeah? Now could you give me your finger back please?"
She gave in and lowered the digit back down. It didn't bite down nearly as hard this time, and it contented itself with gently chewing on the digit. She'd seen this once before with Predacon sparklings, especially Draconians, Canipids, and other such natural hunters when visiting them in their domain outside the main cities – teething. Some of its fangs must still be coming in, or perhaps its baby fangs were being replaced with their adults versions, so it was relieving the pressure it was feeling by chewing on something. And so she let it. It wasn't painful, just mildly uncomfortable.
"Here, Grim. You wanna pet her?"
"Her?" Smokescreen repeated. "It's a female?"
The medic nodded, saying that while not a vet she did know how to differentiate between male and female Earth animals. She asked Grimlock again and assuring him there was no need to be scared. Grimlock did not look convinced in the least and backed away a step.
"Grim, it's okay. If these teeth and claws can't pierce my armor I rather doubt they'll breach yours. Come on, just a little stroke on the head."
Still he refused to take one step closer to the little fuzz ball calmly nomming on her digit. Sideswipe sniggered.
"Seriously, pal. It's not like she's gonna bite." Bumblebee reassured. "She's too busy teething on poor Charity to do that."
While still looking far from convinced, Grimlock nodded and stomped forward. He was happy to note that the kitten barely took any notice of him until he was right there next to it. Even then the most it did was glance in his direction, looking disinterested in him. And so, slowly, optics shuttered, and with a slightly trembling hand, he reached out and lightly stroked one think, claw-like digit across the kitten's head. The Dinobot was acting as if the kitten was a live bomb or something and not a tiny, furry alien critter literally incapable of hurting a Cybertronian.
His optics clicked open at what he felt: the fur was soft, almost silky, and the same strange vibrations he'd felt earlier thrummed up and down his tactile net. He heard the vibrations as well, but the physical ones were still the strongest. They didn't sound like the ones Seekers tended to make when happy. They sounded more like they belonged to a Predacon, like a Panthron or something.
"What is that? The vibrations?"
"Purring. Means a cat is happy or relaxed." Russell said, smiling. "Might even mean she likes you."
Grimlock blinked in surprise. Like him? But he'd scared her earlier!
"Well, this might be her way of saying sorry for scaring you to begin with." suggested Denny lightly. "Cats are intelligent, you know."
The kitten seemed to finish with its teething routine, jerking its head away and running its tongue around its mouth as it gave a small yawn. Charity, seeing the shift in activity, put her down on the ground, though she seemed reluctant to do so. The little feline flicked its tail and turned as if sensing her hesitation to let it go wandering off.
"Maiow. Meerow. Mrrrow!" said the kitten, as though in reassurance.
"Stay safe, girl. Don't go getting in any fights – no 'Cons especially. And if you need a place to stay – you're more than welcome to stay at my med bay. Oh! and if you want to use Grimlock as a bed again...just be sure to give him some forewarning, okay?" She gave her a scratch under the chin.
"Uh, Charity? You are talking to a cat, not a person." Strongarm reminded her. "There is a very low chance it understa-"
"Mrrrow!" the kitten replied firmly. She blinked her big, hazel-green eyes once, her tail a-flick.
Then, fluffy tail held high, the little stray feline trotted off, vanishing into the depths of the salvage yard.
Author's Note: I so wanna make this a teensy little one-shot series like Maria Shadow's "Two-Stroke." If I do, the chapters will not be very long as they're mainly just little glimpses into interactions between the stray and the members (new and old) of 'Bee's team. I'm still tryin' to figure out a name for her. Any suggestions are welcome! :)
