A/N: Welcome everybody! I used to watch Transformers Animated way back when it aired on Cartoon Network and was fanatic about it. Now, with the help of le internetz, I have re-kindled the fire - and watched every other world and generation of Transformers that ever existed.

So, here is my first attempt at writing about everybody's favorite medic! This story takes place before the Great War even began, Optimus is still a young Prime, and a rebellion is brewing under Megatron's leadership. Of course, nobot knows that it's Megatron that's orchestrating the whole thing...

As to what generation the Cybertronians are, I would say that I tend to draw from a general consensus of all the different worlds. However, I do like to think of Ratchet as his character from Prime, because that's my favorite. Also, Shylight and Monitor are my own characters.

Chapter One

Not Interested

"… and then it did the cutest little dance for me!" Shylight finished her story as she flitted around the berth to hand a wrench to Monitor. Monitor took the tool from the femme with a smile.

"You pet sounds delightful, and it certainly seems to be pleasing you."

Shylight nodded. "I really don't know how I could stay online without him. All the stress just seems to melt right out of my frame when I play with him. He's just so darling…" Knock Out, at the helm of the patient, agreed heartily.

"Pets are a wonderful thing, Shylight." His practiced servos expertly rewired the mech's processor. "Caring for a pet has been shown to lower fuel line pressure, relieve work stress, and have positive effects on the strength of your spark." He winked saucily at her and Shylight giggled delightedly.

"Oh yes, and they're a wonderful way to meet new mechs. I take my pet on all of my social outings, and there's even a little club for owners of organics!"

Monitor leaned over and gave the fourth medic a charming smile. "So, what do you think about humans, Ratchet?" A red and white helm rose from bending over a datapad.

"Unh?" the medic grunted, interrupted from creating new lines of code to be placed in the damaged mech's processor. Then he gave a condescending snort. "Organics? Waste of time."

"Ratchet!" Shylight whimpered.

"It's true!" he snapped grumpily. "First off, they're filthy. They excrete all kinds of disgusting oils and even 'eliminate' waste out of their afts!"

"Now, Ratchet, there are ways of handling that little issue," Knock Out attempted to soothe. "Their habitats come with waste eliminators that do the job for you, and you can hire a maid to clean the habitats themselves. If your human is smart enough, you can even train it to clean the habitat by itself!"

"They really aren't that slovenly, Ratchet," Shylight crooned softly. "They are surprisingly easy to take care of."

Ratchet shook his helm. "But they require care, and that's the last thing I need on my already busy schedule. I don't want to have to battle these Primus-forsaken messes all day just to come home to a screaming, stinking organic…" Shylight frowned, hurt at the rebuff, and Monitor hurried to comfort her.

"Well, I, for one, have made up my processor to get a pet." He smiled at Shylight. "Would you go with me to pick one out after our shift ends?" Shylight clasped her servos.

"I would love to!" She sighed happily. Ratchet grunted as he leaned over his work, trying to ignore the slight pang of loneliness that bounced around in his spark.

Ratchet's motor growled as he drove home, exhausted. He eyed the looming, shiny new building on East Iacon Street. Pet organics were the newest fad for the Iacon elite. Cybertronian researchers had discovered a little planet called Earth that contained organic creatures structurally similar to Cybertronians. The researchers had tamed and marketed the little humans as entertainment for mechs with too much time on their servos. The fad had really taken a hold on Iacon when Stardancer, a famous musician, had not only obtained one of these pets, but also brought it to every one of her concerts and even trained the thing to play a crude instrument. Organics became all the rage then, fully fashionable with outfits to dress them in, habitats to customize, and little toys for mechs to play with their organics. Ratchet had to concede that the humans were very trainable, but otherwise he thought they were disgusting. Who could possibly think little squishy bags of flesh and plasma were cute? They eliminated, they purged, they excreted, their plating flaked off in microscopic particles, and worst of all, they could fall ill so easily it wasn't even laughable. They were a waste of time and credits. Of course, Knock Out owned one, and Shylight was quite the follower, but now Monitor was going to get one just to flirt! Ratchet's engine gave a chug of a snort. He shouldn't care; he was far too old to be playing that kind of game…