Continuity: G1 Ratchet & First Aid: Five Firsts
I winced as I stood hesitantly outside the Autobot medbay listening to the yells from within. All the tales from last night in the rec room weren't helping. We, I and my gestalt mates, had been cajoled into going by a friendly black and white mech called Jazz. It had been fun, well, maybe a bit loud and the mechs a bit rowdy, but no where near as overwhelming as I had expected.
Then somebot had found out I was apprenticing to Ratchet which started a whole round of increasingly outrageous stories about my new boss. I hadn't believed most of them, after all it was expected that they tell me horror stories right before I start. But right now I am wondering if it's too late to be reprogrammed into a new function.
Tentatively peering around the door I cringed as the two bots inside noticed the movement and turned my way.
"If you are not extinguishing, close to extinguishing, or in any way about to extinguish, slag off."
"Uhhhm, actually sir, I'm First Aid."
The red and white medic visibly reset his optics. "Thought you'd be taller, well, come in, I don't bite."
"Much." The second mech added, ducking almost immediately to avoid the welder that soared over his helm.
"Just for that I'll leave your self repair to deal with the dents."
The grey, green and orange mech didn't seem anywhere near my level of horrified as Ratchet abandoned his patient and stomped into his office, or so the sign proclaimed. Although whoever had created it had used the nickname I had heard a few times last night, the elegant calligraphy claiming the room to be 'Hatchet's office'. Several lines of graffiti had been added below in various different scripts, none of them all that reassuring; 'Beware of low flying wrenches', 'twin free zone', 'my medbay - my rules', and 'all loitering twins will be reformated without warning', were amongst the most memorable.
"His bark's worse than his bite, as the humans say." The grey mech said as he stretched out his joints, ignoring the blackened and peeling paint etched across much of his right side.
"I heard that 'Jack, get your aft out of my medbay, and tell Perceptor that if he wants to fiddle with one of your inventions he has to warn you when to duck as well as himself."
"Sure thing Ratch." One optic flashed of in a quick wink at me before he sauntered out of the room.
"Well, are you going to stand out there all morning?" The disembodied voice floated out of the office. Although it held none of the snark that had been used to address the other mech I still found myself carefully cycling several vents of air before resolutely stepping towards door.
At least if nothing else I'll be able to out perform the rest of my gestalt in the obstacle avoidance course Commander Prowl has insisted we all take.