This one-shot was inspired by reading 'Nightshift' By the wonderful Melora Maxwell. Seriously guys, go look up her profile. She is freaking awesome and she makes some incredible works of writing.

Original Quote: "Plus, the medic could hardly complain about the set now that he had discovered human medical dramas. Optimus had been personal sworn to secrecy after awaking from surgery at 2am a few weeks back to discover Ratchet squinting at a repeat of House, intermittently cackling and taking copious notes."

'Nightshift'- by Melora Maxwell

Now enjoy!

Optimus came online slowly, shuttering his optics a few times to push away the bleariness. He glanced around the medbay, noting the utter emptiness and darkness, before pushing himself up on his elbow. The berth creaked as he sat up straight, tenderly fingering the fresh weld marks on his side. The last hit that the robotic knockoff had gotten in had done a fair amount of damage, more than enough for his trusted medic to put him under to perform the surgery.

He glanced around once more, realizing the lack of his old friend. Normally, the medic was right at his side, making sure he was in good health and fussing over him like a mother would her child. The old doctor would never admit it aloud, but he had a soft-spark under his solid armor.

Optimus would also never say it to his friends face. He preferred his helm dent-free thank you very much.

It was then he heard a soft noise coming from the main room of the base. Seeing that it was 2 o'clock in the morning, Optimus had not expected anyone else to be awake, other than Ratchet of course, and the medic was normally fairly silent. The physician would wake up randomly in the middle of the night and simply wonder around the base, checking on the space bridge or whatever patient had landed themselves in his medbay.

Sliding around on the berth, the giant leader gently slid off and landed on the floor silently, which was an impressive feat for someone of his stature. Moving soundlessly across the floor, he slowly pushed open the door that lead to the central room. By this point, he recognized the noise as chuckling, and he also noted the existence of another noise, though it was not as loud. The second sound sounded like someone was having a conversation.

Making his way into the larger room, Optimus paused at the sight in front of him.

Ratchet had one elbow on the concrete ledge that the humans had claimed for themselves, resting his face in his hand. The other appendage was currently scribbling furiously on a datapad. The medic had a huge grin on his faceplates.

Optimus moved closer, trying to figure out what the medic was writing, when he noticed that the TV was playing. Realizing that the television was the other sound he had heard, he tried to figure out what exactly was playing, and why Ratchet was tolerating the TV being on. The old bot hated the set with a passion, and constantly complained when the children watched it during their time at the base.

On the screen, an older man with a cane was limping through a hallway when he was interrupted by another man sitting in a chair. The man in the chair said something Optimus didn't catch, but the crippled man's reply was all too clear. It took the Autobot leader a moment to realize that the character had indeed said, "And a happy go to Hell.", and that Ratchet was indeed cackling and scribbling madly on his datapad.

A small corner in the back of Optimus's head had him wondering if he had lost his mind and that this was just a hallucination. He swiftly pushed that train of thought away.

As what Optimus recognized as a commercial break came on, he felt it was a good time to interrupt the medic. He purposefully increased the volume of footsteps as he made his way next to Ratchet.

Ratchet's head snapped up, and the medics face could be compared to a child face after getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar. If a robot could blush, Ratchets face would have been as red as could be. It took almost all of Optimus' substantial willpower not to bust out laughing at the look on his old friends face. Instead, he settled for a low chuckle as he placed a large servo on his medics shoulder.

"Having fun old friend?" Optimus said, allowing a small smile to appear on his faceplates.

Ratchet had recovered from his momentary shock and he schooled his face into a scowl.

"Why are you up? You should still be resting. Those welds need time to heal."

The Prime simply smiled his infuriating smile and Ratchets scowl deepened. He shrugged Optimus's hand off of his shoulder, and turned around, examining the freshly repaired wound on his leader's side. When he had made sure all was well, he crossed his arms and looked up Optimus.

Ratchet glared.

"Stop smirking like that."

Optimus gave a chuckle of his own. "I was not aware that you had any interest in human television." He gestured towards the TV.

The medic looked slightly guilty.

"Well, a few days back, I woke up around 1 o'clock in the morning, ran all of my usual checks, and had nothing better to do. When I turned on the TV, there was a show called 'House' on. I find it rather amusing. I also get some fairly decent material from it." He nodded towards his abundance of notes.

Optimus merely chuckled again and patted Ratchet on the shoulder.

"You deserve some release old friend. I believe it is good for you. Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to attempt to recharge. " Optimus gave one last pat on the medics shoulder and started to return to the medbay before Ratchets cleared his throat.

The medic was glaring threateningly at him, and Optimus looked at his questionably.

"Never." The medic practically growled. "Ever. Say a word about this." Ratchet's face broke into a small, but malicious grin as he fiddled with the wrench sitting on the table next to him.

Optimus merely smiled and continued back to medbay.

And that is why I should not be allowed to write anything at 3am while being hyped up on far too much coffee to be healthy.