It was brown. It was leathery. It had bits of orange hairs in it. It occasionally had a foul smell to it.

Ratchet's aviator cap was a symbol of...well...Ratchet. He wore it all day and he kept it close all night. It was something on his outfit that simply made him look complete. It always sat comfortable as it wrapped around perfectly around his head, hugging both of his ears but never bringing discomfort to them. Though it hid the two stripes that laid in his head fur, Ratchet's never felt ready for the day unless the cap was sitting perfectly on his head.

Ratchet barely had any other items that he was so attached to. Most likely because he had own the cap for most of his life. When he was just six-years-old, Grimroth had taken him to the marketplace down in the Kyzil Plateau for gravity coils. When they were there, they passed by a scavenger who was selling some items he found while he was exploring Solana galaxy, like stones from various planets and souvenirs from new friends and locals that he had met. One of which was an aviator cap that he had bought from a shop on Batalia (due to the icy climate, travelling on the ground was difficult, so a lot of people flew, hence the shops selling aviator caps). It had hung lazily on a hook next to a bag of comet sapphires that had been collected from the Kreeli Comet. Seeing a simple leather brown hat next to dazzling sapphires really shifted the people's attention towards it. And anyone who stopped by the stand wouldn't even acknowledge it, let alone consider purchasing it. That is until young Ratchet and Grimroth walked past.

Ratchet always craved adventure, and even his six-year-old mind knew that there were a lot of things to explore beyond the Veldin stars. So it was no surprise that he enjoyed visiting this stand with souvenirs from all over the galaxy. With the Lombax only being a child at the time, one might expect him to take interest in the various shiny stones or awesome looking artifacts or even the broken down weapons. But a Lombax's mind worked in mysterious ways, especially Ratchet's. The moment that his tiny green eyes had scanned the exotic items available, he gained interest in the lonely aviator cap swaying lazily on its hook.

"Whoa, Mr. Grimroth look!" Ratchet squealed excitedly as he jumped up and grabbed the cap. "It's an aviator cap! Isn't it cool lookin'?"

"Looks kinda worn," the younger Grimroth said. "Could be crawling with those hair parasites."

"No sirree, that cap there is fresher than a pair of my trousers right out the dryer," the salesman said, leaning up against his stand.

"That's not exactly a reassuring analogy," Grimroth said with a strange look on his face.

"Mr. Grimroth, can we get it? Please please please? I've always wanted an aviator cap! It'll help me when I'm flying with the Galactic Rangers!" Ratchet said, running in front of Grimroth. He put the cap on his head, which was too big for a child of his size. It loosely gripped his ears and kept trying to fall down in front of his eyes. He smiled, "See? It's a perfect fit! It was meant to be!"

The aging Fongoid looked down at his pleading youngling, whose eyes were sparkling like Torgoff Waterfall on the planet Pokitaru. The Lombax put his hands together and shuffled his feet while trying to put on a convincing begging smile. Grimroth sighed internally. He had known and raised this child for six years and he knew that young Ratchet was prone to becoming obsessed with spaceships and flight gear. And, as his father figure, he could respect that. Even though he could be reckless, he was a good kid.

Grimroth reached into his pocket as a hopeful Ratchet held his breath and began counting separate bolts as he walked up to the traveler, "How does twenty bolts sound?"

And from that day on, Ratchet wore the aviator cap everyday. Though it would always try and slide off when he was little, as he grew it became a better fit for him. It latched to him as he performed his daily tasks of sweeping the garage floor and giving customers pre-summer proton scrubs (wasn't it always summer? They lived in the desert!). He would of course wash it when the cap absorbed his sweat and became littered with his fur, but the moment it was clean, it went right back on his head. This was his aviator cap, and it would stay with him through thick and thin until it fell apart.

And even now, as Ratchet sat on the edge of the garage roof watching the golden Veldin sun set behind the many rock formations, his cap laid comfortable on his head. It grasped his two large ears perfectly and was just the right size for the top of his head. It turned out that his six-year-old self was right. It was a perfect fit and it might as well have been meant to be. Maybe that day was fate. This aviator cap was meant for him.

"Good evening."

Ratchet glanced over his shoulder and saw Clank walking over to him. The small robot trotted over to him with his metal feet clanking again the metal roof and sat down right next to him. Clank kicked his feet as they dangled over the edge and he looked up at Ratchet. The Lombax smiled and placed a hand on his own head, removing his cap. His ears bounced as it was removed. Ratchet then placed the aviator cap on Clank's head, who held it so it would stay in place. Ratchet chuckled. It was too big for him, that reminded him of someone. And that someone would soon learn that he may love his cap, but it didn't hurt to share it with someone else sometimes.

(Happy Four Years of Being on Fanfiction, yay!)

You know, I've always wondered where Ratchet got his cap came from. So I kinda took it upon myself to make up a story for it. Ratchet wears it in almost every single game, so it has to be important to him.

Make sure to leave a review while picking up your complimentary toaster! (It's been four years and I'm still handing these things out. I still don't know where I get them from.)

This is Amberdiamondswords, Lordess of Diamond Swordness, signing off!