Title: You Can Still Be Free
By: mmouse15
Rating: T
Warnings: Slash. Wheeljack. Perceptor speak.
'Verse: G1
Characters: Wheeljack, Ratchet, Perceptor, Blaster, mentions of Jazz and Bluestreak
Pairing you want: Blaster/Wheeljack
Sin(s): Sloth; Greed
Three things you want to see in your fic: 1.) Wheeljack neglecting his projects (you supply the reason); 2.) An appearance by Perceptor in some shape or form; 3.) a balance of humor and angst
Three things you don't want to see in your fic: Can't really think of anything this time around!
I was also a backup writer for the October 2008 rare pairings challenge, so this was my second story for that month.
Wheeljack opened the door to his lab, sighing as he saw the mess within. The latest explosion was hardly his fault, he'd been distracted at a crucial juncture and accidents happened. Nevertheless, he had to clean up before he could move forward, and so he stepped into the room.
"Look out!" came the shout from behind him, just before he was pulled back as a beam came crashing down from the ceiling. He stood there, shocked as the mech behind him pulled him back further.
"You okay, 'Jack?" Wheeljack shook his head.
"You're not okay? Damn. Ratchet."
"What?"
"Wheeljack's not doing well, can you come down?"
"I just released him, what the frag did that mech do to himself this time?"
"Dunno. I was passing by when I noticed that the ceiling was about to fall on his head and I pulled him back. Didn't think he'd gotten hurt again, but he says he's not okay."
"Fine. I'll be there in a couple of klicks."
The mech let go of him, and Wheeljack finally recognized Blaster.
"Blaster?"
"Yeah, 'Jack?"
"I really am fine."
Blaster shot him a glance, then returned to examining the lab. "Sure 'Jack. I'd just feel better if Ratchet looked you over."
Wheeljack subsided. He didn't know what was wrong with him, but…
"Slag it, 'Jack, what did you do this time?"
"I didn't do anything, Ratch. I'm fine. Blaster saved me from getting hurt again."
Ratchet looked at him, then reached behind his helm and pulled out a diagnostic cord. Wheeljack allowed him to plug into the access port on his helm, and Ratchet's optics started flickering as he rapidly moved through 'Jack's systems. By this time, the two friends had been linked like this so often that the Lancia found his firewalls automatically rolling back for the medic. Ratchet finished and unplugged, retracting his cord.
"Well, you appear to be fine, but…well, 'Jack, I'm putting you on medical leave for the next couple of days. In your quarters, please, you are restricted from the lab."
"But Ratchet!"
"No. I've already commed Prime and Prowl, and you're on leave. Git."
Wheeljack subsided and slouched down the hall.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Perceptor knocked on the door, and not receiving an answer, used the bypass code Jazz had given him. He peered into the dark quarters. Wheeljack was slumped in a corner, not even on the berth, and he appeared to be in recharge. Perceptor went over to him, laying a hand on his shoulder and gently shaking him. The engineer started, systems booting up and coming online slowly. Perceptor frowned, his scientific curiosity piqued. Wheeljack was not behaving normally, and thus presented a puzzle for the scientist to solve.
"Fascinating. Your responses seem to be slowed by 52.67%, and by the sounds of it, your primary internal pump has a repairable bifurcation of the second filtration diaphragm. In addition, your optical relays seem to have a 3.42 second delay."
"Huh?" Wheeljack also seemed disoriented.
"I shall have to set up additional tests to see if these seemingly minor problems lead to the relay delay in your servos."
A hand reached out and covered Perceptor's mouth.
"Stop, Percy. I was in recharge. That would be the reason for the delay."
Perceptor removed the hand. "Yes, yes, of course you were in recharge – but on the floor, 'Jack? Honestly – and I did account for that in my calculations, but you still have an unreasonable reaction delay, and I would be most interested in attempting to diagnose this condition."
"No. Just…no, Percy." Wheeljack's ear fins were glowing very dimly, and Perceptor finally shook himself out of his scientist mode and helped the engineer to his feet, guiding him over to the berth. Once there, the microscope pulled a cube of energon from subspace and offered it to Wheeljack. Gratefully, the engineer took the cube and began downing it. Once gone, Perceptor offered him another cube.
"Two, Perc?"
"I have more. Ratchet was concerned about you and sent me here with a goodly supply. He thinks part of your problem is a chronic disregard for your fueling cycles and thus you are depleting your reserves."
"You mean I don't eat enough, so my systems are cannibalizing themselves."
"That is what I said, Wheeljack."
The engineer huffed at him, but downed the second cube in good grace. Perceptor offered him a third cube when he was done, and Wheeljack accepted it, sipping this time.
"Feeling better, Wheeljack?" Perceptor asked, a frown crossing his face.
"Yes, I am. Thanks for looking out for me, Perc."
"Oh, you're quite welcome. Will you be alright now?"
"Yeah, I'll just finish this and go back into recharge." The engineer took another sip, offering a smile and a wave to the scientist as he left 'Jack's quarters. Once Perceptor was gone, however, the smile slid off Wheeljack's face. He frowned at the cube in his hand but finished it off. Once done, however, he didn't go back into recharge, choosing instead to pace around his quarters.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
The enforced leave wore on Wheeljack, causing him to become short with even his closest friends. Perceptor was no longer allowed in, and Ratchet only got in because he threatened to use his medical override and while he was at it, reconfigure Wheeljack into something useful that was meant to explode, such as a cannon. 'Jack let him in as a self defense measure. Ratchet took one look at him and drug him out of the quarters by an ear fin, hauling him down to the washracks where a group of minibots were only too happy to help scrub the engineer free of the detritus of his last explosion. Once he was clean, Ratchet then marched him to the rec room for energon and a rousting game of Twister, Autobot style.
"Feeling better, 'Jack?" Ratchet queried after the engineer was eliminated. It was rather difficult to beat Jazz at Twister. The mech was more flexible than a 'bot should be.
"Yeah, I am. Thanks, Ratchet."
Perceptor joined them, having sought the source of the noise that was disturbing him and, having poked his nose into the room, been shanghaied into playing.
"You really should join us more often, Wheeljack. There is an exhilaration in releasing one's inhibitions that can be quite stimulating mentally."
"You mean it's good to relax occasionally, because then you can think better afterwards."
"I believe that is what I said, yes."
"Uh-huh. Thanks, Percy."
"So, tomorrow you're off the medical leave lists and you can head back to your lab, 'Jack."
"Good. It will feel good to clean up that mess. I really was on the track of something exciting, Ratchet."
"I'm sure you were, 'Jack."
The three watched as Bluestreak, of all mechs, finally beat Jazz by dint of using his doorwing to get a color. Jazz howled that Blue was cheating, but was unable to keep up the charade when Prowl came in, breaking into gales of laughter and trying to use his hands to explain the impossible configuration of the remaining mechs on the Twister rug.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
The next morning Wheeljack marched down to his lab, keying in his code and thinking about the challenge of cleaning up his lab. To his very great surprise, the door slid open on a spotless, freshly painted and very clean lab. He stepped back, suddenly unsure. A hand pressed into his back and pushed him gently forward. He twisted around and looked up at Blaster, who was grinning down on him.
"Like it? We all came in and cleaned up for you. Perceptor thought of it."
Wheeljack continued into the room. "Yes. That was…very thoughtful of Perceptor and of all of you to help me in this way."
Blaster watched him move around the room, touching equipment and taking stock of the changes. Wheeljack turned to him and smiled.
"Thanks, Blaster. Please do pass that on to everyone. I'll just get started here. You've all really saved me a lot of time."
"Actually, I'm here to continue helping. I don't know how you want things organized, but if you tell me, I'm really quite good at filing and organizing."
"Oh, I wouldn't want to take up your time that way."
"'Jack. It's not an imposition. I want to help. Please." The orange mech laid his hand on Wheeljack's arm and gently rubbed the metal under his hand.
The engineer looked at him, and Blaster gave him a small smile.
"Fine. I have no idea why you'd want to be in here, don't you know I blow things up just by thinking about it?"
Blaster laughed and Wheeljack flashed him a grin, his ears winking merrily.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
The two mechs worked quietly together over the next few days, Blaster taking time to help Wheeljack while on duty, perfectly capable of monitoring all the airwaves and allowing his fingers to automatically sort and catalogue Wheeljack's eclectic array of parts, equipment, tools and datapads. Sometimes he would stop what he was doing, turning his focus inward to his primary task, but always able to return his attention to helping Wheeljack.
The engineer, meanwhile, was enjoying the company of the orange mech. He was surprised that while Blaster could be loud and in the thick of a crowd, once he was by himself he was quiet, purposeful, and good company. Wheeljack came to realize that part of his problem had been a lack of company of other mechs. When he mentioned this to Blaster, he got a quick grin and a reply.
"Probably. We've discovered that mechs that are alone often start getting a bit strange in the processor, so we're going to make an effort to drag you out of here more often."
Wheeljack chuckled, then retreated. He wasn't sure that he wanted everyone's company, perhaps just a few select mechs would better for him. He mused on this. Ratchet, of course, and Perceptor. He got along well with Jazz, but really, if you put Jazz and Blaster together it was an automatic party. He then realized that he'd included Blaster in his list of necessary mechs. Stunned, he leaned back against a series of shelves, causing a loud clatter as equipment shifted and fell to the floor.
"'Jack? Are you alright?" Blaster came on him quietly. Wheeljack, startled, didn't have a chance to clear his expression. Blaster took one look at him and stalked forward, trapping the engineer against the shelves with his arms and his body.
"Finally. Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do this?" With that, he bent and kissed Wheeljack.
The Lancia, meanwhile, was enjoying the kiss and wrapped his arms around the taller mech, pulling him closer. Blaster finally broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Wheeljack's and smiling down at him.
"Yes?"
"Yes."
"Good."
And no more words were spoken. Blaster pulled him down to the floor, his intent clear in his optics. Wheeljack found himself greedy for any touch, the fingers pressing into his seams causing him to arch into each touch, his voice giving clear indications of his pleasure. Blaster moved his fingers down 'Jack's side, the engineer moaning as the orange mech scraped over a port. He paused, moved back over the port, gently exploring. Wheeljack was panting, desperately trying to cool his systems and unable to get enough air to do so. Blaster was grinning, finding the data cable and gently pulling it out, connecting it to his systems. Wheeljack fumbled and found the matching cable on Blaster's chest, pulling his cable out and plugging it in to himself. Once the connection was established on both ends, Blaster let loose his admiration of and desire for Wheeljack. The engineer in reply sent his appreciation and his surprise at how necessary Blaster had become so quickly. Their desire was too new, too fresh for either of them to last long, and overloads crashed through them, cascading through one and cycling into the other until their systems in self defense shut down.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
When Wheeljack woke up, he looked around the storage room. Blaster had cleaned up the mess, but was not in the room. 'Jack groaned and hauled himself to his feet, staggering a bit until his systems were working properly again. He moved out into the lab, one hand on his head and the other on the wall. Blaster was in the lab, obviously working on communications. He flashed a smile at Wheeljack but didn't stop his conversation with whomever was on the other end of the comm line. 'Jack moved over toward him, and Blaster pushed a cube of energon his way. The Lancia downed the cube quickly, feeling the energy surge through his systems.
"Finally! How are you, 'Jack?"
Wheeljack actually thought about the question before replying. "I'm…I'm doing well. Thank you."
"Not a problem."
Silence fell between them. Wheeljack finished his energon and looked at Blaster, his ear fins flashing brightly.
"So, is it bad that I want to do that again?"
A laugh, then, "No. How about a berth this time?"
"Sounds good. I happen to have one of those in here."
"Yeah, I know. Thought about that a lot."
"So I'm not the only one?"
"No, you're not."
Laughing, the new lovers retreated to the berth. Wheeljack thinking how lucky he was to have found a friend and a lover all in one. Life was definitely looking up!
The End.