1)So, i went to Colorado this week. It was a long, grueling 14-hour drive. This is what I did for 30% of that drive.
2) My totally random thoughts that I had to share. So I was listening to "Dinosaur" by Ke$ha, and for some reason, I kept thinking about movie-verse Sentinal creeping on Arcee. XD
3) My ever-flexible medic, Fixit, in metioned in this. Rifflock is mine, as is Kip and Stingshot. If you want to use them, you must ask. They are not canon, though Kip's alter ego is. this is purely me being bored on a long drive.
4) Enjoy, and please review. :)
5) Oh! Almost forgot. Italicized is past. Bold is the song. Regular is present.
Rifflock sighed heavily as she sulked in her chair. Around her, the Iaconian Marketplace was bustling with bots, both native to the city-state and tourists, all excitedly looking at the various booths and kiosks that cluttered the Market. In reality, her booth was one of the most popular. She sold jewels for armor, precious stones formed into jewelry, and other such fineries. The sparkling jewels and bracelets on display caught the optics of many a passing femme, and those femmes dragged their mechs up to the kiosk to browse Riff's vast selection of trinkets. It was the choice place to buy Iaconian-style jewels, something that Iacon was well-known for. In fact, the only booth more popular than Rifflock's was the one that sold cybercats and petro-hounds.
It wasn't just the fineries that brought bots to her booth, either. It was no secret that Rifflock was quite a pretty thing to look at, and many a mech came to her booth simply to uphold conversation with her. She was witty, and it was easy to make her laugh. The same jewels decorated her white armor. She fancied the red jewels over any other ones, and they dotted her frame in a strategic manner that brought out the black racing stripes that ran down her arms and legs. Most mechs and femmes were under the impression that she came from wealth, and the presence of the red jewels on her frame seemed to support that belief, though it was incorrect. She didn't mind other bots believing she was rich, though. It helped her sell her stock.
This particular cycle, though, she wasn't as bubbly as normal. Her smile didn't quite reach her optics, which were dimmed in fatigue. Her orn hadn't been the best. Well, even that was an understatement. Her femme creator, who had been slowly slipping away since the death of her mech creator a few orns ago, had finally given up the fight for life, leaving Rifflock, her only creation, with all her debts and with that, a great deal of stress. She had already been having troubles making ends meet due to the economy. Mechs and femmes were having trouble getting energon due to the shortage, meaning they were less inclined to buy frivolous things like jewels.
So as normal, Rifflock sat in her transformable chair as she looked around at the thick crowd. She knew that none of them would be stopping by her booth. In fact, the bots seemed to avoid even looking at it. A small sigh escaped her vents as she offlined her optics and rubbed at the helmache growing right behind her optics.
"Pardon me, but are you still open for the cycle?" The cultured mech voice surprised her so much that she jolted in her seat, optics flashing on just in time to see the mech in front of her jump in surprise at her sudden movement. The chartreuse mech regained his composure and gazed down at the femme with yellow optics. Rifflock hummed quietly to herself. So the mech was a politician…
"Yes, I am. Looking for something for a special femme?" Rifflock asked smoothly as she gracefully rose to her pedes. The mech smiled wryly.
"Yes. My femme creator has sparked two little mechs, and I wish to purchase something for her," the mech stated. Rifflock smiled as she moved to stand before her booth.
"You must be very happy to have brothers," she said evenly. "I never had siblings."
"I cannot honestly give an opinion yet. From what I've seen, the things are just bundles of wires and metal that wail all the time," the mech said distastefully. Rifflock laughed brightly at that.
"Honestly, sir, that is when they are cutest. Just wait 'til they are old enough to paint your chassis pink while you recharge," she said conspiratorially.
"I pray to Primus every lunar cycle that I will not be living with them at any time as they grow up," the mech breathed, looking rather ragged at the thought of living with the two mechlings. Rifflock let out another chuckle as she lifted up a necklace created from a special kind of rust-coated energon. Such energon wasn't difficult to find, but it was difficult to handle due to the unstable state it was in.
"Well, this is a special necklace, perfect for a special femme. The rust coats the necklace, and over a period of time, usually an orn, the rust breaks off, leaving a beautiful stable-energon necklace," Riff advertized. The mech nodded as he studied the necklace. "If you would like, I can add one of my jewel pendants to it to bring it out a bit more," she added after a few moments. The mech shook his helm with a smile.
"No, I believe she will like this one very much. How much…?" he asked, taking out a credit transfer link. Rifflock smiled.
"For you? A hundred credits," she stated. The mech frowned.
"Surely, something of this caliber and rarity is worth more," the mech disagreed. Rifflock smiled and shook her helm.
"Precious moments between a creation and their creator is worth far more. One hundred credits, and I will not accept anything more," Rifflock said in a stern voice, though her smile betrayed her tone. The mech stared for a few kliks before a smile spread across his faceplates. Rifflock stared, dumbstruck at how her spark reacted to that smile. She broke out of her trance when he held out his credit exchange link. She took the link and started the transaction.
"Thank you, Miss…" he trailed off, and Riff was quick to pick up the sentence.
"Rifflock," she said quickly, flaring up her spark signature in greeting. The mech smiled again.
"My designation is Ratchet," he replied, flaring up his own signature. Rifflock nodded in greeting as she finished up the transaction. He returned the link to Ratchet and quickly wrapped up his chosen gift in a pink metal box filled with decorative metal shavings. She returned his smile as she handed the gift over.
"Nice to meet you, Ratchet. I hope to see you again."
Picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor.
Rifflock stared at the holocube in her hand that held a still shot of Ratchet. She had taken it secretly as he prepared to walk away from her booth the first time she saw. She was currently seated on the floor of her run-down housing unit. It was a small unit, but at the moment, it was all she could afford. The energon crisis had risen, and war had broken out. She hadn't spoken to Ratchet since their argument, but she couldn't deny the aching loneliness in her spark. She sighed heavily as she looked out the window, debating, once again, whether or not to comm. him.
Reaching for the phone 'cause I can't fight it anymore.
With a sigh, she decided against it. Ratchet was probably still angry with her. Slag, he probably didn't want to see her again. She stood, leaving the floor filled with physical memories as she moved to the window. She stared out at the acid rain that fell from the mercury clouds above. Nobot was outside, seeing as acid rain was deadly if it got past one's armor and to the protoform beneath. Rifflock wanted nothing more than to run through that rain to her love and his little brothers. However, she couldn't just show up like that. The argument was all her fault, and he wouldn't want to see her.
Besides, she couldn't risk the rain getting to the new life in her sparkling chamber.
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind.
For me, it happens all the time.
Rifflock blinked in astonishment when she saw a familiar chartreuse politician striding purposefully to her stall, a worried expression on his faceplate. Rifflock quickly looked away and continued packing up her wares in her subspace bag that transformed into a chair when empty. Her proximity sensors told her that Ratchet was standing right behind her, yet she ignored him, too embarrassed to speak to him. Sadly, he wasn't going to accept her silence.
"What are you doing?" he questioned. Rifflock resisted the urge to wince.
"Packing up," she replied succinctly as she continued her work.
"Why? You never leave early," he remarked. Rifflock smiled at the fact that he had been watching her and visiting her enough to know this fact.
"I have been offered a job elsewhere," she stated. Gentle chartreuse hands closed around hers, and she looked up at Ratchet, her sad red optics meeting his soft yellow ones.
"Please don't be vague with me. Tell me what is wrong so that I can help you," Ratchet ordered gently. Rifflock shook her helm as she pressed her lips together.
"I don't need help," she stated. Ratchet's optics narrowed.
"I'll be the judge of that. Explain the situation, Rifflock," he reiterated. Riff shook her helm harder, causing Ratchet to scowl. "Riff, let me help!"
"I will not ask another mech for credits!" she suddenly burst out, and she broke down. Coolant tears streaked down her face as all the stress from the last couple orns crushed down at once. Ratchet frowned as he pulled her into his arms, crooning wordlessly to her as he ignored the stares they were receiving.
"Explain the situation," he bit out, though there was no edge to his words. Riff nodded, and everything that had happened flowed out into the open. She told him about how she had been falling farther and farther into debt since her femme creator had offlined, about how the bank had foreclosed on her trendy housing unit due to her inability to pay for her creator's debts to the city-state, and about how she was forced to live in a glitch mouse-infested housing unit. She explained how the delegate in charge of business in the Iaconian Marketplace had informed her that if she didn't pay for her booth, she would no longer be allowed to sell her wares there. Seeing as she hadn't had the credits to make the payment, she had started searching around for a new job. Just when she had given up hope, she had received a comm. message from Maccadam's Oil House offering her a job as a waitress. She was still shocked by the offer, seeing as she didn't send in a request for a job there.
"So now I'm packing up to go home," Rifflock finished with a sniff.
"Why didn't you say something before?" Ratchet asked quietly. Rifflock shook her helm without removing it from where it rested on his chest.
"I don't want your money. I'm not a charity case," she whispered. Ratchet huffed irritably, knowing that he would've been the exact same had he been in her position.
"When do you start your new job?" Ratchet asked.
"Next cycle," Rifflock replied. Ratchet nodded.
"Then at least stay in my guest room for the night. You should have a peaceful recharge the lunar cycles before starting a new job," Ratchet stated. Rifflock smiled at him as she shook her helm.
"I appreciate the offer, Ratchet, but I'm not a charity case. I need to learn to stay in my new housing unit, so I might as well start now. I hope to see you again," she answered easily.
"Are you certain? It would be no trouble," Ratchet said with a grimace. "I do not want you staying in a bad area of town."
"Ratch, honestly," Riff replied with a giggle. "I'm a big femme. I can take care of myself, and I know I'll see you around." She grimaced when her internal chronometer suddenly flashed. "I have to go," she said as she pulled away from him.
"My offer stands if you change your processor," Ratchet claimed.
"Okay, Ratchet. I'll see you around," she said as she finished packing up her stuff. She slung the subspace bag over her shoulder, took one more still shot of her crush, and walked away.
It's a quarter after one. I'm all alone, and I need you now.
Said I wouldn't call, but I lost all control, and I need you now.
And I don't know how I can do without.
I just need you now.
Ratchet grimaced as he walked Maccadam's Oil House. It was filled to the brim with rowdy, overcharged mechs and a few femmes. There were at least five different drinking songs being sung off-key, and mechs danced sloppily to the loud raucous music playing in the background. Not the place he wanted his femme working at. Sadly, though, Rifflock loved her job. Knock-Down, a large military-build mech, kept all the rowdy mechs from getting too personal with her, and the other waitresses were her closest friends. Riff had also made friends with a lot of the regulars, specifically four mechs that went by the names of Jazz, Blaster, Skywarp, and Chemical. The former two were terrible flirts, something that worried Ratchet to no end, and the latter two were simply fun-loving mechs that Rifflock had described as being "simply adorable."
Then there was Maccadam himself. Riff had never actually met the mech face-to-face, but they had spoken to each other over comm. messages, and Rifflock adored the mech. Ratchet could understand why. Maccadam was extremely polite and encouraging to the femme. Whenever she had a bad day, she was let off early, and whenever Ratchet showed up, she was allowed a longer break to speak with him. This cycle, Ratchet really needed that extra break time. He glanced around the pandemonium, trying to catch a glance of that white armor with red jewels.
"Ey, Ratchet, honey!" a waitress designated Stingshot called out as she approached him. "Lookin' for Riff?"
"Yes. I don't supposed you know where she is," he replied. Stingshot smiled.
"She's in back. Go on back, hun."
"Thank you." Ratchet moved easily into the crowd, dodging the drunken mechs as they stumbled around. Practice made wading through the crowd simple, seeing as he had been doing this every solar cycle he could get off. He moved passed the doors to the energon brewery in the back. His optics immediately located the love of his life.
He had to pause in awe of her beauty. White armor shined due to polish given to her from one of her admirers, and her red jewels glittered in the light. Her red optics were bright with happiness as she spoke to a red femme designated Kip. He smiled gently when the two femmes suddenly broke into giggle fits at something Rifflock said. Kip sobered up first, still grinning as she grabbed her small circular tray that held cubes of high-grade.
"Primus, I love you, Riff! I'm glad you started working here!" Kip said on a laugh, as she hugged her friend from the side. "And for the record, if Blaster said that to me, there's no way I would let him get away."
"I'm sure you wouldn't," Rifflock replied with a sly grin. Kip rolled her optics.
"Go talk to your mech," she said in a teasingly commanding voice. Rifflock cocked her helm and looked behind her. Ratchet felt his spark skip when her optics landed on his and brightened in happiness.
"Ratchet!" Rifflock exclaimed in a pleased voice. "See ya in ten, Kippy!"
"Greetings, Rifflock," Ratchet greeted as Rifflock moved his way. Riff grinned at the greeting as she stopped in front of the chartreuse mech, but she frowned when she saw his optics.
"Ratchet, why are your optics blue? You are not of the scientist or medical caste," she said with a frown.
"You have the optics of a military femme, yet you are working in an oil house," Ratchet countered with a small smile.
"I have red optics because my opiluk was a military mech; however, my danniluk was a tradesfemme, allowing me access to this caste. And I have not changed my optic color to hide that fact. Ratchet, what's going on?" Ratchet sighed as he took Rifflock's hand. He led her over to the small table that was settled up against the brewery wall and allowed her to sit down in one of the chairs.
"Riff, you remember the recent attack on Iacon Square?" Ratchet asked.
"Of course. Who doesn't?" Rifflock replied, her expression growing worried.
"It was orchestrated by Megatron," Ratchet stated.
"What?" Rifflock exclaimed, surging to her pedes.
"Riff, calm down, and let me finish," Ratchet chided, guiding her back down into her chair. "Riff, Megatron declared war on Optimus Prime and the Senate. The Prime is trying to build an army, and I have applied as a medic because I already had most of the training finished due to how often the twins got hurt." Ratchet looked away as he continued, hating what he was about to ask her. "Which leads me to my next point…"
"Ratchet…" Rifflock said in a warning tone when he didn't continue.
"Just… let me figure out how to phrase it," he murmured, holding up a hand. Rifflock vented irritably.
"Mech, my break ends in a half breem. Spit it out!" Rifflock snapped. It was Ratchet's turn to vent.
"My danniluk offlined in the attack on Iacon Square." Ratchet paused at Rifflock's horrified gasp, but quickly continued. "I've been caring for the twins, but I have to be an apprentice to a medic for at least an orn. With the war starting, though… it will likely be closer to a vorn."
"And you want me to take care of the twins," Rifflock finished with a gentle smile. Relief flooded Ratchet's face at her understanding.
"Yes," he breathed. "You would be staying in our housing unit, because I don't want the twins in a place with glitchmice, and—"
"Ratchet, is this all some elaborate plot to get me out of my glitchmouse-infested unit?" Riff interrupted. Ratchet grinned sheepishly.
"Partly," he admitted, "but mostly it's because those two slaggers actually listen to you."
"That's because I know how to deal with them, Ratchet," Rifflock replied, looking to her right, towards the door that hid Maccadam's office. Ratchet gazed at her as she debated her options, and he hated himself for putting her in this position. She looked back at him and smiled up at him. "I'll do it. See you at your housing unit after my shift."
Another shot of whiskey.
Can't stop lookin' at the door.
Ratchet swirled the high-grade around in its cube. It had been another one of those cycles. Three patients. He had lost three of his patients last cycle. Fixit, his mentor, had told him that it was impossible to save everybot that appeared on one of his berths, but Ratchet disagreed. Had he forced the issue and made Fixit allow him to perform the surgery, two of those bots would be in the recovery ward. But he hadn't forced the issue, and those two bots were in the Well of All Sparks. He had felt that he had no right to force the issue to another medic in that medic's medbay. Now, he wished he had had the gumption to yell back at Fixit, rather than caving to his commands and moving on to the bots that had a higher chance of surviving.
And if that wasn't bad enough, he had come home and yelled at his bonded. His anger from his earlier actions in the medbay had flowed easily through the bond, but Ratchet knew without a doubt that Rifflock wouldn't have been able to find where his anger at her actions began and where his anger at his own reticence in the medbay began. So, naturally, she had gotten scared and fled the housing unit. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, now younglings, had stared with wide optics at the fighting couple. Ratchet and Rifflock had never had a fight around them. When Ratchet had turned his gaze to them, they had fled to their room.
Now, Ratchet was sitting in his customary seat across from the door, now on his fourth cube of high-grade and nowhere near as drunk as he wanted to be. He and Rifflock had agreed to get rid of all the high-grade in the housing unit after taking in the twins, so all Ratchet had were the small high-grade cubes used to keep a medic online when performing an exceptionally long surgery. Not quite enough to get him overcharged. No, he'd have to go to an oil house for that, but he didn't want to leave the twins here by themselves. Perhaps he could take them with him. The femmes at Maccadam's were used to having to sparksit them…
Wishing you'd come sweepin' in the way you did before.
He stared heavily at the open door. The awning kept the acid rain from entering the house. He couldn't help but wish she would suddenly come sweeping through that door as she usually did at this time.
"Ratchet, I'm home!" Rifflock chimed as she entered the door. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker rushed around her legs, caught up in their current game as they dashed to their room. Rifflock laughed lightly at them as she looked at the seat that sat parallel to the door. She frowned at her bonded as she studied him. His optics were dim, and his body was spotted with dried energon. His elbows rested on his knees, and his helm was held in his hands. Rifflock allowed the door to hiss shut behind her as she approached him. She knelt down before him so that she could see his downcast optics better, and she gave a quiet whistle as she looked up at him.
"Ratchet, my love?" she murmured, her voice growing worried. He suddenly reached forward and grabbed her, pulling her into his lap. Rifflock gave a startled yelp at the sudden movement, but went silent when he nuzzled his helm against hers. She purred lightly at the attention and cuddled closer to her mech. "Ratch? What happened?"
"I… I lost a mech. I-I, he, I…" Ratchet trailed off, clutching his mate closer to himself. "He… He was on the berth, and his spark was fine, but he just… gave up…"
"Oh, Ratchet," Rifflock whispered in sympathy, though she knew she could not understand his pain. She whined sadly at the pain filtering through the bond. She knew that nothing she said would take away that pain, so she simply sat there, allowing her mate to nuzzle her helm and feed her his emotions, sending back comfort, understanding, and support. It wasn't much, but for Ratchet, it was enough.
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind.
For me, it happens all the time.
::'Ey, Ratch. The rain stopp'd, an' s'me a' the mechs're goin' out ta Maccadam's. You wanna come?:: -Jazz
Ratchet sat silently as the comm. played through his communications systems. Did he want to go? What if Rifflock was there? She still had a few solar cycles of work before she would be moving into his quarters on base. He hummed to himself as he debated his options. Go to Maccadam's with the twins and be allowed to get drunk, ro stay here with the twins and just recharge. He grimaced to himself. He didn't want to get overcharged when he needed to care for the twins, but he did want to go to Maccadam's. Maybe she would be there, and he could apologize.
::Very well. I will be there.:: -Ratchet
Ratchet rose to his pedes and moved to the twins' room. He could hear the twins talking lowly behind the door, but he ignored it as the motion sensor caused the door to hiss open. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe both froze mid-motion to look at Ratchet. Sideswipe had apparently been playing with his action figures, while Sunstreaker had been drawing on a datapad.
"Come. We're going to Maccadam's to—" Ratchet was cut off by identical whoops of joy and excitement. Sunny and Sides loved going to the oil house Rifflock worked at, mainly because the staff spoiled the two. Many femmes brought them sweetened energon treats, while Knock-Down had taken to bringing them rust-sticks, something that was rather rare in Iacon. Needless to say, the twins never copped an attitude when they were told Maccadam's was the destination. Sideswipe grabbed one of his red metal-mesh bags and shoved some of his action figures in, while Sunstreaker grabbed a yellow one and stuffed in three of his datapads. Ratchet stared in awe as the two mechlings trotted to the door and stopped in front of him, looking up at him expectantly.
"Ready," Sideswipe chirped. Ratchet shook his helm in bemusement as he turned and moved back into the greeting room. The two mechlings followed after him eagerly. He moved outside the front door and lifted the twins into his arms. Just as Jazz had said, the acid rain had died down, making the outside safe again.
"Okay, mechs, let's get going," Ratchet murmured, transforming around the mechs. The two bots ended up in the front seat of his terrain-alt. mode, and Ratchet didn't waste a moment as he drove off in the direction of the famous oil house.
It's a quarter after one. I'm a little drunk, and I need you now.
Said I wouldn't call, but I lost all control, and I need you now.
And I don't know how I can do without.
I just need you now.
Rifflock sighed heavily.
::I know, Maccadam, but… I don't think I can. I mean, I've had a pit of a cycle, and I… I just can't.:: -Rifflock
::Riff, you and I both know it's deeper than that. I know you don't think you can work, but you must come in this cycle.:: -Maccadam
::This is illogical, Mac. How will coming in this cycle change anything? I'm still going home alone next cycle.:: -Rifflock
::Just trust me, femme. Come in to work.:: -Maccadam
Rifflock groaned as she rose to her pedes, holocubes forgotten on the floor. One look outside proved the rain had stopped. She transformed down and sped away, only vaguely remembering to lock the door behind her. It only took her a breem to get to Maccadam's Oil House. She frowned as she moved to the front door. The motion sensors allowed her entrance as the door hissed open.
"Riff!" two small voices exclaimed, and a klik later, two small mechs tackled her legs. Rifflock chuckled as she crouched down to pull the two mechlings close to her chasse in a group hug of sorts.
"Riff, Ratchet got me an Optimus Prime action figure!"
"Riff, look at this sketch!"
"He comes with an energon sword and an ion blaster!"
"I still have to color it in, but the shading was a lot better!"
"I still have to get a Prowl and a Jazz, but Ratchet said that he'd look into it when he next went to the market!"
"I think the sketch looks just like you!"
"What do you think?" The two twins spoke over each other until they said the last sentence in unison. Rifflock, completely accustomed to this type of greeting, easily followed along.
"Why, Sunstreaker, that sketch is wonderful. I feel honored that you would use me as a model. And you did all that from memory! I'm amazed, my mech. And that figure is so cool! I remember hearing Ratchet talk about getting you an Optimus Prime. Has he seen any big battles, yet?"
"Yep! He fought against my glitchmouse doll and won!"
"Well, it wasn't completely by memory."
"I'm already planning the next battle!"
"I mean, I still have your picture from Ratchet, but it'll be better when you come home."
"When are you coming home?" Once again, the twins spoke over each other until that last sentence, which was spoken in sync.
"Well, that depends on—" Rifflock started, only to be interrupted by a hesitant "Rifflock?"
Rifflock looked up and met optics with Ratchet as he gazed at her. His optics were just as hesitant as hers were worried. Jazz moved around Ratchet and lifted the twins up, ignoring their protests. He glanced at Ratchet, then at Rifflock before he jogged back to where a small group of Autobots were sitting.
Guess I rather hurt than feel nothin' at all…
"I'm sorry, Riff!" Ratchet blurted out. "I had a bad cycle, and I took it out on you. Primus, I'm sorry."
"I shouldn't have yelled back, and I should've supported you."
"No, you are entitled to your opinion. I know you don't approve of me being involved in this war, but it's for the good side, and I'll be in the medbay most of the time."
"Yes, but it's what you thought was right, and—"
"Primus, stop arguing over who's right and kiss already!" Kip snapped from her spot beside Jazz. Rifflock scowled over at her best friend.
"I don't think we asked for your—" Rifflock began, only to be cut off by Ratchet's lips on hers. She vented heavily as her cooling systems kicked on.
"Eww!" Sideswipe exclaimed at the same time Sunstreaker yelled, "Get a room!"
"I swear those two will be the end of me," Ratchet mumbled into her audio receptor as he pulled away from the kiss and wrapped her in his arms.
"You know you love them," she whispered back.
"No, as I recall, you are the one who argued for them to stay at our housing unit rather than the Youth Sectors."
"That's because the femme's there have no—"
"Ey! If y'all're done ovuh there, then y'all c'n join us!" Jazz called out. The two glares sent his way made him laugh nervously.
::This is why you needed to come, my dear. Go with them this cycle. Do not return here.:: -Maccadam
::Mac…? What—:: -Rifflock
::Trust me. Do not return.:: -Maccadam
::Very well… You'll stay in touch…?:: -Rifflock
::Of course, my child. The Primes always watch their children.:: -Maccadam
::Wait. The… the Primes?:: -Rifflock
::Of course. It was wonderful working with you. I hope you enjoyed your cycles at Maccadam's Oil House.:: -Vector Prime
"Rifflock? Lightspark? You look like you've seen a ghost," Ratchet said in a worried voice. Rifflock's wide optics sought out Kip, who had sneaked away to the door to the brewery. She gave a secretive wink and held her pointer finger over her sly smile. Then, with a giggle, she left, disappearing as she moved through the door.
It's a quarter after one. I'm all alone, and I need you now.
"Well, I can't really do much, I'm afraid. I'm not like Ratchet in that sense," Rifflock said, optics set firmly on the wall to her right. Ratchet's hands, which were placed on her shoulders, tightened slightly at her statement.
"I deny that fact. Any femme that can control Sideswipe and Sunstreaker has talent indeed," Optimus Prime replied with a gentle smile.
"Yes, but controlling the twins will not further the Autobot cause in any way," she claimed.
"I disagree with that," Ratchet mumbled under his breath. Rifflock elbowed him discretely in the stomach, and Optimus grinned behind his facemask.
"Then we shall give it a trial period. You may care for the twins, and meanwhile, I will have my officers observe your behavior to see if there is any specific place you should be placed," Optimus offered. Rifflock glanced up at Ratchet, who nodded, before turning her attention back to the Prime.
"Very well. I accept."
And I said I wouldn't call, but I'm a little drunk, and I need you now.
"Oh, no! It's gonna get Riff!"
"Not if I can help it!"
"Save me, guys!"
The Autobots in the rec room exchanged amused glances as they watched Rifflock rush into the room dramatically, followed closely by Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, who were both waving around dull metal swords. Sideswipe was wailing about some fictitious retro-rat that had mutated into a giant monster, while Sunstreaker yelled his plans to protect his surrogate mother/sister-in-bond. Rifflock suddenly fell dramatically to the ground, yelping in mock pain.
"Oh, no! Help!" she cried out theatrically.
"I'll save you!" Sunstreaker decreed, and he tackled her.
"Wah! Sunny!" she gasped, air knocked from her. Sideswipe giggled as he followed his brother's example. "Oh, Primus, you two are so heavy!" she yelled, though they were only a third her size.
"Yeah. Mechs tend to be," Sunstreaker said with a smirk.
"And what are you three up to?" a deep, rumbling voice asked. Rifflock froze as she moved her gaze to her right. Right beside her helm were two large feet, and attached to those feet were long, flame-painted legs.
"Oh, Primus kill me," she moaned in embarrassment.
"We're saving Riff from the evil Retro-Rat of Doom," Sideswipe informed him.
"It sounds like a noble feat; however, I fail to see how sitting on the damsel in distress protects her from the monster," the Prime claimed as he crouched down to their height.
"We're sitting on the monster, which is sitting on Riff," Sideswipe replied, as if this was obvious.
"I killed it, though," Sunstreaker interjected with a smug grin.
"Did not! I stabbed it first! You were the distract'n!" Sideswipe shot back. Rifflock, seeking to end the impending fight, suddenly rolled over. The twins fell off her back as she leapt to her feet.
"M'hahahahaha! Little mechs I eat!" Rifflock cackled mock evilly.
"Zombie youngling eater!" Sideswipe yelped, pointing an accusing digit at Riff.
"Run!" Sunstreaker chimed in. Both mechlings jumped to the pedes and dashed back out the way they came. Rifflock turned to Optimus quickly.
"I apologize that you saw that," she said evenly. Optimus chuckled.
"I see no fault in playing with younglings. It keeps them busy and boosts morale. By all means, carry on," he replied. Rifflock grinned as she pulled her right hand up in a lazy salute.
"Yes, sir!" she said sharply, and she turned around. She took two steps forward and stumbled. She caught herself on a table occupied by three mechs, all of whom turned to look at her with expressions mixed with curiosity and worry. "Oh, Primus, it's time."
"Oh, Primus, it's time for…what…?" Ironhide asked slowly. Rifflock's frightened optics turned to him.
"Well, I think it's a bit late to inform Ratchet that he's gonna be a creator…"
And the room erupted into mad chaos.
And I don't know how I can do without.
I just need you now.
"Slaggit, femme! What the frag were you thinking!" Ironhide roared. After her statement, every mech in the rec room had surged to their pedes. Optimus had managed to scoop Rifflock into his arms before her legs completely gave out, and now, he was leading a potential stampede of mechs toward the medbay. The mechs that had been at that one table — Ironhide, Jazz, and Wheeljack — were at the front just behind Optimus, whose long-legged stride was eating up the distance in little time.
"I swear to Primus, if my sparkling comes out cussing, I will slag you ten different ways!" Rifflock yelled back.
"Your fraggin' sparklin' can't hear us!" he retorted.
"I don't give a—" She broke off with a scream, and Optimus had to tighten his grip when she bucked in his arms.
"Slag!" the Prime exclaimed as he sped up, something that hadn't seemed possible before. Somewhere in the back of his processor, he noted that every mech seemed to move faster when a femme was about to eject a sparkling. He entered the medbay, along with every other mech, just as Ratchet was exiting his office, a pained look on his face.
"What the slag is wrong!" he exclaimed, looking around at all the mechs currently in his medbay. His optics finally settled on Rifflock, who was whimpering in Prime's arms. "Primus, what did you do to yourself, femme?" he asked in sympathy, able to feel her pain dimly through the bond.
"This is your fault, too, you slagger!" she screamed at him in ire. "I am not taking all the blame for this sparkling, and last I checked, it took two to get sparked!"
"Sparked? Why the frag didn't you tell me you were sparked!" Ratchet demanded as he gestured for Prime to set her on a berth.
"It didn't come up!"
"What, you couldn't just tell me? 'Hey, Ratchet. Have a nice day at work? Oh, and I'm pregnant!'"
"Stop yelling at me!" Rifflock screamed, and to Ratchet's horror, she broke down in tears.
"Primus bless," Ratchet mumbled. He turned to the crowd of mechs and grimaced. "Dear Primus, Riff! You've got the whole fraggin' base here!"
"Don't cuss in front of our sparkling!" Rifflock wailed.
"It can't even hear me," he mumbled, ushering everybot out via wrench toss.
"Don't call my sparkling an 'it' like some slaggin' drone!"
"Primus, femme, stop being so irrational!"
"Don't yell at me, you fragger! I'm in pain!"
"Calm down, Riff," Ratchet ordered, forcing his voice to be gentle. "Open up your chest plates for me. I need to check how far you are."
"It hurts," she whimpered.
"I know, my love. But you have to listen, or your sparkling won't survive. Now open up," Ratchet murmured, rubbing her helm as he waited for her to obey his command. Rifflock whimpered as she obeyed. Ratchet briefly checked over the status of her spark and was relieved to see that there had been no damage during separation. Had he known she was sparked, that would've been the first thing he would've checked, and that check would've taken place at least a vorn ago. Of course, that had been just after their big fight. After checking her spark, he moved on to her sparkling chamber, and he was surprised to see that the sparkling's helm was already beginning to emerge.
"Lightspark, the sparkling's already coming out, but it needs some help. I need you to activate your ejection protocols so that the sparkling chamber will open," Ratchet coached. Riff moaned in pain as she searched through her protocols. She quickly came across her ejection protocols and accessed them. She cried out in surprise when she felt her sparkling chamber open. Ratchet didn't waste any time in reaching in and lifting out the little bundle of wires. The second the sparkling was out, the sparkling chamber closed again.
"Oh, my Primus," Rifflock moaned.
"It's all over, my love," Ratchet crooned as he cleaned lubricants and energon off the sparkling's body. He wrapped the sparkling in a light metal-mesh blanket and placed it over Rifflock's spark. "Meet your little mech, Riff. What should we name him?"
"Well, he caused quite the alarm… and he was quite ready to come out… how about Red Alert?" she asked, looking up at her mech. Ratchet smiled as he nuzzled his mate's helm.
"I love it."
I just need you now.
"His name is Red Alert," Rifflock informed the twins as they sat on her medical berth. Around the berth was a large crowd of mechs, all of whom were completely quiet, not wanting to wake the newest member of their team.
"Can we play with him?" Sideswipe asked. This gained chuckles from the surrounding mechs.
"No, Sides. He's too small, stupid," Sunstreaker replied. Sideswipe stuck out his glossa at the yellow mechling, but was ignored.
"Well, I believe I speak for everybot here when I say that I am happy for you. Congratulations, Rifflock, Ratchet. Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, this means that you have a very big job. You have to keep your little brother safe and away from trouble. Can you two do that?" Optimus asked. The twins stared up at their idol in awe. Optimus Prime had just given them an order.
"Yes, sir!" they said in unison, bringing their right arms up to their forehelms in identical salutes. Optimus chuckled as he turned to face the crowd.
"Okay, mechs. Give the new family some time together. Return to your posts!" he ordered. Every mech turned to leave, sending glances back at the new creators. Ratchet watched as they left, glad to finally have some time with his mate.
"I'm a big brother," Sideswipe said in quiet awe as he stared down at his new brother. Ratchet gently lifted up Rifflock, sparkling and all, and moved to his office. At the back of his office was a large berth. He gently placed Rifflock down of the berth and was about to climb up beside her when a small vent of air caught his attention. He looked back at the door of his office to see Sideswipe and Sunstreaker peering inside. Both looked hesitant, yet jealous.
"Well, are you two coming or not?" he called out. The two immediately scurried in. Ratchet lifted them up when they reached his side and placed them on the berth before taking his place beside his mate. Sideswipe crawled up to Ratchet and plopped down on his chest, situating himself over the medic's spark. Sunstreaker quickly followed his twin's example, and before long, Ratchet had two mechlings snuggled up over his spark. He smiled down at his younger brothers, both of whom were exhausted from the excitement, then he looked over his mate, who was deep in recharge with a single hand protecting her sparkling from the outside world. He smiled, then, having the feeling that he was certain every proud opiluk had.
Primus had blessed him, indeed.
Oh, baby, I need you now.
And in the Well of All Sparks, Vector Prime smiled beside his eleven brothers and sisters.
"Congratulations, my child. It was nice working with you," Vector Prime stated, though he knew his ex-employee could not hear him.
"She was a rather nice femme…" Prima interjected.
"She is not offline, yet, Kip, and she will survive this war very well. I have foreseen it," Vector replied with a smirk. Prima smiled at the use of her alias.
"Did you tell her who we were, Maccadam?" she asked.
"Would she have believed us?"
"Good point."
"Indeed. I suppose you and Blaster were never meant to be."
"Ha! He will meet a nice femme designated Solarwind. I have already spoken to Alpha Trion about it."
"I see. Then I suppose the rest is up to time."
"Indeed."
"Can I offer you a drink, Prima?" Vector Prime asked with a smile.
"Yes, you may, brother. Let's watch somebot else's fate. These two appear to be rather well off."
"Indeed."
For those of you wondering about Rifflock's name, here ya go.
Riff: To speak amusingly or make amusing comments.
Lock: Something used to secure something. Something that brings safety.
And for those wondering about the 13 Primes and the reference to them... Here's the deal.
Maccadam was never seen in the comics or in the cartoon; however, many mechs say that he is supposedly one of the original Thirteen. So, I used Writer's Power to make that a fact. Vector is the only one who could logically be Maccadam, because he can travel through space and time, meaning he can be anywhere at any time. Alpha Trion, though he can see the future, past, and present, cannot visit them. Prima being Kip was just a personal thing that only one of my readers will understand. Happy birthday, Kip ;)
Well, review. my laptop is about to die! D: