It's Elementary, My Dear

Rating: G

Continuity: G1, cartoon

Pairings/Characters: discussed Inferno/Red Alert, Grapple, Hoist.

Warning: Utter silliness. No beta.

Among the various jokes my roommate and I make about G1, two of the reoccurring ones is that Red Alert must constantly accuse Inferno of cheating and that Grapple and Hoist are a pair of old queens.

Yesterday, the two ideas converged in my brain and this was the questionable result.

This fic has absolutely no redeeming value.

"Inferno is cheating on me!" Red Alert stormed into their studio on the heels of that announcement and proceeded to rant, extensively, on the evidence he'd gathered to support this theory - which included everything from Inferno spending ten more nano-kliks on his maintenance routine than normal to how the right side of his mouth was three microns higher than the left when he talked about going for a drive the other day.

Grapple looked up from his current project and shared a meaningful look with Hoist. Hoist, in turn, vented a great sigh and set aside the datapad he'd been reviewing.

"Now, now, dear, none of that," he said, standing up from his stool and approaching Red Alert, "You're going to melt your circuits at this rate and then where would you be, hm?"

"In the medbay and with a cheating partner," Red Alert said mournfully. Still, he let himself be taken by the shoulders and guided to a stool.

Grapple got up to fetch a can of hot oil for the frazzled Security Chief while Hoist reclaimed his own seat.

"Listen to me, Red," Hoist said, "I have known Inferno since he was just a handful of cogs and a more loyal bot I've never come across. What on Cybertron got this silly notion into your cortex?"

"I'm not imagining it," Red Alert said, a mix of resentment and discomfort in his voice.

Hoist held back another sigh and patted Red Alert's knee soothingly. It really wasn't the poor dear's fault he was so high-strung. He was young and much too inexperienced for the position he'd been assigned. Frankly, most of the bots in the Ark's crew were enough to give even the most laid-back Security Chief a processor ache, let alone someone as naturally sensitive as Red Alert.

"Did I say anything of the sort?" Hoist asked, "I've known you for quite a while too, my dear, and I've learned that if there anything I can put my trust in, it's your powers of observation." The conclusions he leaped to using those observations on the other hand... Hoist cut off that line of thought and patted Red Alert's knee again. "Now tell old Hoist what's got you so worked up."

Red Alert voiced his concerns, at first haltingly, and then with greater conviction when Hoist didn't interrupt or disagree with him. Grapple returned with the oil somewhere in the middle and Hoist nodded to his friend gratefully.

Inferno was, apparently, hiding something. Granted, his behavioral changes were so innocuous, anyone who wasn't Red Alert wouldn't have registered them or if they had, would've shrugged them off as nothing. But while Red Alert's conclusions often stretched the boundaries of plausibility, he was a master at the collection of evidence and never, ever made anything up. If he said Inferno was acting out of the norm, then Inferno was doing exactly that.

Eventually, Red Alert wore himself down. "What am I going to do?" he asked at last. He wrung his hands helplessly around his oil can.

Hoist leaned back on his stool and tapped the end of his nozzle thoughtfully against his face-mask. "Inferno does seem to be acting differently," he admitted, "But tell me, Red, has he been spending any less time with you than normal?"

Red Alert cocked his head to the side without loosing his stricken expression, probably accessing his memory files. "Yes," he said, "Almost four breem." He hesitated and added, "Collectively. Since he started acting strange. It's usually no more than a klik here or there."

Hoist resisted the urge to chuckle. "Forgive me, but I don't think that's nearly enough time to be conducting an affair."

"He could be doing it during his work shift," Red Alert said, clinging stubbornly to the idea, "Or while on patrol."

"Well, for the first, there are surveillance logs you could check. Which I'm sure you already have," Hoist added, catching Red Alert's guilty shift, "For the second - has he been patrolling with anyone you'd have reason to be suspicious of?"

"No, no Hound and Trailbreaker are completely trustworthy in that regard, and Cliffjumper isn't remotely Inferno's type."

"Is there anyone you suspect Inferno might be involved with?" Hoist persisted, "It does take two cheat, darling, and given the fact that it's your job to keep track of what we're all up to, you'd be the first to pick up on anyone expressing unwarranted interest in your Inferno." It was also unlikely that a secret of that sort would stay hidden for long. Privacy was in short supply on the Ark, what with everyone practically living in each other's cargo holds.

Red Alert deflated. "No, there's no one. But I know he's hiding something! What could he possibly be doing that he just won't tell me?"

"That, I don't know," Hoist said. He glanced over at Grapple, curious to see what his friend might come up with. Grapple had a special knack for mysteries and Hoist always got a charge out of seeing the clever way he connected the dots.

As usual, his friend didn't disappoint.

"Not all secrets are bad ones, Red Alert," Grapple said, after a moment of silence. He had returned to his work bench and was absently testing the strength of a weld line on his newest model. "Maybe he's been putting together a nice surprise for you. After all, Inferno is something of a hopeless romantic."

Red Alert shook his head. "Inferno knows I can't stand surprises. I've told him time and again..." His voice cut out and a dismal look crossed his face-plates. "Oh slag, it is coming up on our two vorn anniversary."

"There you go! I bet my tire treads that's what this is all about," Grapple said, "He's dreamed up some grand event to celebrate your anniversary and is waiting for the day-of to unveil it to you."

"I concur, my dear Grapple," Hoist said, delighted, "It makes perfect sense!"

Red Alert moaned and chugged back a large gulp of oil. "But I told him not to do this to me! I don't understand, why is it any less romantic to tell me about his plans when he makes them? Why must it be a surprise?"

"If you mean in general," Hoist said, "Most bots, myself included, enjoy the unexpected and appreciate the effort it takes to hide a good surprise. If you mean, 'why does Inferno think that way'? You will have to ask him yourself. I doubt he means badly by it."

"I know he doesn't," Red Alert said. He reached up to press the plating between his optics. A little blue arc of electricity danced over his fingers, showing how hard he'd strained his processor. "He never does. I just wish he took my requests more seriously."

Hoist and Grapple shared another look. Everything was serious to Red Alert. He treated putting the lids back on the washing supplies with the same deathly urgency as Decepticons invading the base and killing Optimus Prime. Trying to filter the real emergencies out of the minor incidents was tiresome enough when you were Red Alert's friend and co-worker. Doing it as his partner had to be simply exhausting.

At the same time, just because Red Alert made Decepticons out of rust particles, didn't mean it was right of Inferno to disregard everything he asked for

"I have an idea," Grapple said. He stood up and started pacing, as he often did when processing some grand new plan or design. "A compromise, you might say. First of all, Red Alert, I must ask you something."

He waited for Red Alert to indicate he could continue and said, "I understand you are uncomfortable with surprises. Perfectly reasonable! But how would you feel if Inferno told you he had a surprise planned and when he was going to share it with you, but did not reveal the content of the surprise? Would that bother you as much?"

Red Alert started to protest, only to stop and truly think about the question. Hoist took the chance to re-leave him of the now empty and somewhat dented oil can.

"I still don't think it's romantic," Red Alert said firmly, "But it... wouldn't be as unsettling. At least I would know it's coming and prepare myself accordingly."

"And do you trust Inferno not to conceive of a surprise that would hurt or upset you in anyway?" Grapple said.

"Of course I do!"

Behind Red Alert's back, Hoist rolled his optics toward the ceiling with as much drama he could manage. If Red Alert really did trust his partner, they wouldn't be having this discussion in the first place. Grapple kept his expression neutral.

"Then here is what you're going to do," he said, "Confront Inferno and let him know you're aware of the plan he has in the works. Tell him that while you appreciate the effort he is making on your behalf, you don't appreciate him trying to catch you unawares after you'd asked him not to. Lastly, present the alternative I questioned you about - an expected surprise, if you will."

"I... that might work," Red Alert said. The tension in his shoulder struts eased at having a solid course of action. "I think I'll do that."

Hoist patted his hand against his nozzle in quiet applause. "Brilliant, as always!"

Grapple waved off the praise modestly. "Nonsense, it it what anyone would do."

"Thank you both, for taking the time to listen to me," Red Alert said and stood, "But I need to get back to my station now. If I'm gone any longer, I just know something will..."

"Of course, of course," Hoist interrupted him, rising as well to usher Red Alert out the door. "Remember to come see me again the nano you feel your circuits start to sizzle. I would hate to have to replace your motherboard again!"

Once Red Alert was sent safely on his way, Grapple braced his elbow on his work bench and stared wistfully into the distance. "So much fuss over a little anniversary gift. Red Alert doesn't appreciate what a catch Inferno is."

"Oh stop, Red's just being himself," Hoist said. He eyed the stack of datapads he'd been reading before Red Alert arrived and shook his head. "I can't do it, I simply can't focus any longer. It's time for a break."

"Hm." Grapple straightened up from his bench. "You know, I bet those young flyers are out practicing maneuvers right now. If we sat out by the main entrance -"

"- we'd have the perfect view! I do like the way your processor works, my dear."

"I try."

END