Author's Notes:
I'm not the biggest fan of Beast Machines; in fact, I have quite a few points of dissent with the plot. However, I am fascinated by the idea of Rattrap in a relationship, so I couldn't help but write at least one story that involved a Botanica/Rattrap pairing. Botanica struggles with inner reason to decipher what she sees in the rodent and reflects on herself, as well.\\whatever\\
represents Botanica's inner voice, and when her speech is just italicized, it's her replying.Warnings:
Transformer cursing, mature themes, etc.Obligatory Disclaimer:
I own no part of Botanica or Rattrap, or any part of Beast Machines in general. I have to give some credit to author and friend April Vannatta, since it was her story that helped inspire this one. Thanks, April.A Rose by Any Other Name
By Chaotic Serenity
He was no longer with her.
It was the first thought that passed through the foggy mind of Botanica as she awakened from her heavy slumber and slowly became aware of the world around her. A hand made its way to her temple to massage it--a habit picked up from spending what many thought to be too much time with offworlders--and to rub her eyes. That, too, was an idiosyncrasy she'd developed, but that one had originated from her transition from mechanized robot to technorganic being. Had the herbaceous 'bot been more awake, she probably would have cursed the one who had left her. Luckily for the said "he," the battle of a previous day's hardships was still taking its toll on her sapped body. Instead, Botanica opted to simply accept the occurrence as a passing memory and move on.
Halfway through the getting-up stage, however, she paused, thinking that he had possibly deigned to cater to her needs this morning. She rejected the idea almost as soon as it entered her mind; it wasn't his style.
Groggily standing, swaying slightly from the energy drain she'd survived a few days earlier, Botanica forced herself from the warm draw of the bed and made her way to the kitchen where the rest of her team was bound to be. She hoped to meet up with the members she'd come to call her friends--minus a certain commander whose loss she wasn't up to accepting quite yet--as well as a particular robot whom she had a mind to strangle at the moment.
To her surprise, the only other Cybertronian to be seen was, of course, the one member of her race she was shy to face after last night's rendezvous where she had, uncharacteristic to her true nature, spilled her feelings out to him, piling them, and herself, onto his lap.
Rattrap scurried around the kitchen doing whatever. He looked surprisingly refreshed and cheerful as he prepared items and carefully placed away supplies, further supporting her want of strangling him, exhausted as she was. Heck, he was even humming! However, she doubted he even realized what he was crooning as most of what remained his memory was just bare images and flashes of events.
Megatron had been defeated, but his taint had yet--or ever would, for that matter--leave the bedraggled crew of the Beast Wars. In his wake, he had left the beaten crew struggling to put together their past lives, grasping futilely to the thin strands of remembrance the virus had left in them. It wasn't fair, but it had happened, and there was nothing left for them to do but move on and rebuild with what they had left.
And in the opinion of former off-world commander Botanica, they were doing pretty darned good with what they had.
Amid her reverie, Botanica debated whether or not to approach the jovial rat to speak with him or simply keep her silent sentry at the galley entrance. The battle within her was at its peak, and she struggled with her inner anxieties with what to say.
\\Talk to him, you twit. He's happy, you're happy, approach him and get it over with.\\
No
, she hissed back mentally, What could I possibly say to him? And I am not happy!\\You're going to eventually have to speak with him, better now then never.\\
Fine, alright then, what do you propose I say?
\\Your the brain here, not I.\\
At that, Botanica's face hardened into that of a challenger's scowl, mentally preparing and pulling together every insult and curse in the her handy dandy book of compiled universal curses, possibly, the greatest self-bombardment of one's inner voice ever seen in Cybertron history.
You,
she began, only to be interrupted by a familiar, singsong voice, somewhat squeaky, but with an undeniable city accent."Well, it looks as though a certain fem 'bot decided to pull her lazy rigid grill structure outta bed."
Scowl fading as quickly as it appeared, Botanica fell silent; she hadn't expected so soon a confrontation with the rat 'bot. However, her silence did not last very long as a female of Botanica's intellect did not allow for an insult to go without a quip of response.
"Perhaps I would have awakened earlier if a certain detestable rodent hadn't left me for whatever reason possessed him to do so."
"Eh, sorry babe, but why should I stick 'round for th' drained and lazy?"
She grimaced and crossed her arms. "Tell me Rattrap, are you really that obnoxious, or is it something you have to practice?"
"Every night, tree lady. Although, I'm afraid a certain fem busted in on my training las' night."
Had Botanica been of a more organic, possibly human nature, her cheeks would have flushed from the current lush green to the dreaded rose tint that so plagued the embarrassed and timorous few. However, since she was, after all, part robotic in nature, her systems opted to simply blank her mind of any responses for the short span of a pause that suddenly seemed to widen between them. Last night was the exact reason why she hadn't wanted to face him this morning. Perhaps later, when she'd had time to reflect on her choices and mistakes, but not now, so early in the morning before she'd had time to think. She sighed quite suddenly and knew immediately her mistake: she should never have gotten involved with Rattrap in the first place.
What's it worth,
she asked herself, if whatever relationship we could ever possibly have would be riddled with this suffocating silence we have? What's it worth if I can't even talk with him?\\So now he's not even worth our time, eh?\\
I never said that.
\\Yes, you did.\\
I did not!
\\Yes.\\
No!
\\Yes.\\
No, I didn't mean that, and I am not arguing with you about this.
\\Whatever. You have a serious denial problem going on there.\\
Oh? And what exactly am I denying?
\\Like you don't-\\
"Botanica, 'ey Botanica!" A hand waved in front of her face. "Awake in ther', babe, or are taking anothe' snooze on me?"
\\Heh, it's our significant other, better leave now. Toodles, good luck now!\\
Rust in the Pit,
she cursed, before turning to Rattrap who was now reaching up to place a hand on her forehead."You seem kinda warm, Botanica...do you need more rest?"
Seeing the worry in his eyes, she quickly pushed his gentle hand away with a callous, "I'm fine."
Sheer emotion from Rattrap was even harder to handle this his obnoxious exterior. At least the insults she could battle with her own wit, but she was completely lost on how to handle him when the gates opened and the sentiments came flooding in.
The apprehension still had yet to leave Rattrap, yet he shared her mutual fear of raw feeling. Such emotions he rarely cared to deal with, and, possibly, it was the one reason why he'd never fully understood his fellow comrades when they "followed their hearts." Knowing this, he allowed the action to pass and, instead, simply countered, "At least sit down, Botanica, and lemme get ya a drink."
Having no other alternative before her, Botanica, for once, complied. In any other situation, she probably would have remained standing, a testament to her unrelenting stubbornness, but for once, exhaustion and confusion drove her to listen.
He turned his back to her as he prepared the hot energon brew, the wispy, blue spirals of translucent heat shimmering as it condensed in the air. Cooking...he was actually cooking for her! Botanica shook her head of the oddly fascinating spectacle; did she really have so little faith in him? Come to think of it, did she really have faith in anyone these days?
\\Of course you do. You have little faith in anybody around you. Remember Retrax? Oh yes, Retrax, the supposed "love of your life." Hey, maybe your right: perhaps, the rodent really is worthless.\\
There was more then just a few points about Retrax that were wrong, though. He fooled me, but his true colors showed through on Kaiteersei.
\\So? Is this is true, then why are you willing to let Rattrap--who is obviously a better robot and far more sincere in his manner--go?\\
I'm not letting him go,
she protested, I just know it won't work out. I'm obstinate and stubborn, he's the same...we both have a habit of hiding our feelings...\\Like the Pit you aren't. Your just making excuses. Grow up girl , and don't let yourself get hurt again.\\
You don't know if he'll hurt me or not.
\\Who said I was referring to Rattrap?\\
Silence predominated once more over her mind as Botanica took this in and contemplated. Her inner voice was right: she really didn't have much faith. But she was like that for a reason! After all, who wouldn't be wary after the betrayals and hardships she'd been through?
Primus, what had happened to her? Years ago she'd been a lively, daring explorer with one of Cybertron's most brilliant and successful offworld teams, and now...she didn't even care. For a time, she had not remembered much of her past, as the most others who were victims of Megatron's virus had found. And, for awhile, she'd kept up a facade of a proud, strong survivor, hardening herself for the trials she knew were yet to come. She'd been too shocked from her whole ordeal to be any more surprised by Cybertron's demise or to even mourn for those lost.
So she had made herself forget what little she had.
To remember was to care, and to care meant to lose focus. Hurling herself into whatever she could find, whether it be technology or spirituality, Botanica had forced the ascension of mounting memories from her mind and, instead, had filled them with bottomless ideals of some kind of future.
The must have hated me for it,
she reflected. She didn't blame them, either. Hardening herself had made her a colder Cybertronian on the outside. Cold to the point where she wondered if she was even alive anymore. Sometimes she wondered what Rattrap had seen in her. In some ways, where was her right to question his standing in her eyes?Slag it all. Where was the justice? She was safe now, but at what cost? Reformatting had left her land-locked, unable to even separate herself from the core of Cybertron. A harsh price to pay for a Cybertronian whose previous foremost love and work was outer space.
And the memories...Why did they all have to come crashing down on her in that one instant? Who'd have thought that something as simple as watching a flower bloom in the warmth of the midmorning sunrise would trigger a chain of harsh remembrance?
The names of her crew: Starchaser, Siphon, Tungsten, Alloy, and others...The memory of Retrax, the one who had betrayed her, Retroburn, her own former commander and military teacher, and, finally, Ma'Ker, the native of Kaiteersei-- the planet where they had taken on sentient plant beast modes--who had been her spiritual mentor through all of it, teaching her the small ways in which organic and mechanic could live together.
Then came the memories of their demise, the death and devastation she'd rushed away from, and the pain of watching her own crew die while the virus slowly began eating away her own defenses and, later, her mind.
Botanica--was that even her original name?--had been the only survivor, and in doing so, the names of those past and gone were forever ingrained in her memory, black sketches against a backdrop of emotionless white.
She hadn't been able to handle it.
Though much of the following events were vague in the hazy film that covered her mind, she could still recall the raw emotion that had bubbled in her, could still remember stumbling through the underground caverns long after all others had fallen asleep, running for the one 'bot she thought--hoped, actually--could help her through all this.
And right into Rattrap's arms she'd fallen.
She sighed softly, wistful in the wake of her thoughts. Catching another glimpse of the conflicted other, she looked up just in time to see Rattrap turn with her drink in his hand. She also waited long enough to see him quickly sip the top as it spilled over, in hopes of the controlling the overflowing liquid, before placing the cup before her.
It was simple gesture, nothing to be upset about--especially since they were supposedly in love--but, as always, mind and spark did not work as one, and she simply gazed a it, a blank look adorning her already expressionless face.
\\What are you waiting for? He made that just for you, now drink!\\
He drank out of it,
she replied in a monotone voice.\\He drank out of it? That's the best you can do?! What a pile of slag. You did more then just talk to him last night, for Primus sakes. If you can handle a slagging kiss, a cup should be a step down, so stop making excuses, and drink!\\
With a start, she hurriedly sloshed down a good portion of the glowing blue liquid...only to nearly choke it back up as her sensors read how incredibly hot it actually was.
"Oh, an' Botanica, ya may wanna let dat cool off before ya," his voice fell a tone when he noticed her situation, "drink it." He shrugged it as only he could, then found himself a seat across from her as Botanica continued to fan herself.
Shaking his head, the rat 'bot couldn't help the toothy grin that crept up an pounced upon his mischievous features. He couldn't help it; with her practiced, ice-queen ways, it was unusual to picture Botanica in any sort of embarrassing situation such as this.
Unfortunately, it wasn't long before his leafy companion noticed his mirth at her expense and retaliated. "What's so funny, reproachful rodent?"
The two-wheeled rat chuckled, mentally making a note to help her improve those verbal sparring skills of hers. "Dunno, babe. Maybe it's because a certain fem 'bot lacks th' proper skills to properly consume an energon brew," he countered, mocking Botanica's finely cultured speech with a few injected words from his own repertoire of snazzy comebacks. Though, he probably should have taken easier; she had no idea of Rattrap's true smart-aleck potential. Sadly--or so many of the late Optimus' crew thought so--it had not been one of the traits he'd lost during his transition to techorganic being.
Rattrap was still Rattrap in many ways, despite what others thought. Sure, there were parts of him that had changed in minor ways, but for the whole, out of all the remaining Beast warriors, he had probably come out the least unscathed. Cheetor had grown up, Silverbolt had faced his own evils, Blackarachnia had mellowed out quite a bit, Optimus had taken a dive over the deep end a few times, and Rhinox...Well, Rattrap didn't like to focus on Rhinox too much.
There were several things the aging 'bot missed--his old body, faithful gun, the old times, verbal spars, and Optimus were among them--but, Primus, how he missed Rhinox. The old Maximal had been his friend, his companion for years through the Beast Wars, and he had known Rattrap in a way no other had done for years. If it wasn't for Rhinox....well, Rattrap probably would have perished a long time ago during the Beast Wars instead of surviving long enough to be sitting here with the female who--though he was loathe to admit it--had stolen his heart, and his end wouldn't necessarily have came from Predacon fire. Actually, the entire crew would have probably lost it all had it not been for the quick, mechanical wits and unending faith that Rhinox so generously gave. Big Green, as Rattrap had affectionately dubbed the scientist, had been the solid stepping stone for all of them. Perhaps the reason why the tension had grown so great among the Cybetronian recruits was because they had had no stepping stone to cling to when the going became rough.
But the past was gone, and now Rattrap had a new future to face. A future, he hoped, that may include the sullen fem before him who was now shooting him a venomous glare from across the make-shift table. Botanica had yet to say anything, and Rattrap doubted she would. The female still needed some serious training when it came to attacking the verbally inclined rat head on.
While Rattrap's reasoning was part of Botanica's silence, the real purpose was because, once again, Botanica's was fighting yet another inner battle.
\\Just leave him alone, for Primus sakes, and let him have his victory. It won't kill you to lost one slagging argument...not that you could win it anyway...\\
Why don't you just go away, she shot back, and I resent that remark! Besides, it's not as if you're any help in this situation.
\\Of course I'm not; you refuse to even listen to your feelings.\\
No, I don't.
\\Yes, you do, especially when it comes to Mr. Wheels over there.\\
Why must you making things so slagging complicated? And leave Rattrap alone!
\\I'm not making things complicated here. You, on the other hand, are.\\
Oh, and how exactly am I doing this?
\\Don't ask me. At least I can admit when I've been defeated.\\
Defeated?! What the-Slag it, what are you talking about? What battle have I fought that I've lost?
\\Well, this argument, for one. As for the other victory you haven't attained...well, that's your problem.\\
Problem? Problem! I don't have a problem. The only problem I see here is you, so go rust in the Pit.
\\Why should I? Your refusal to be honest with yourself isn't my dilemma, and, besides, I'm comfortable here, thank you.\\
Go to the slagging Pit for all I care. I don't have any problems with honesty.
\\Then why can't you admit that you've fallen for him?\\
The question hung in the air like gun smoke in Botanica's mind, silence spreading yet again over all corners of her mind. (Was it just her, or did she seriously need to learn how to retaliate against such a loss?)
Was it true? Had she really fallen for Rattrap and just refused to admit it? Through all the muck of his and her combined past, the hardships of their prior situation, and the less favorable points of Rattrap's personality--including that ungodly way he could irritate her--had she really, at some point or another, seen past that confident air to see somebody none to different from herself? And in doing so, had she found the one 'bot she'd been looking for all her life?
No, she shook herself mentally. It was impossible, especially with Rattrap. She couldn't be in love with him or his pessimistic attitude, pestering ways, and smart mouth that was oh so fun to argue with. Slaggit, how could she be doing this to herself?
\\Your doing it again.\\
Botanica didn't need to ask what. Yeah, I know...denial...
\\Well, at least you've recognized that you have a problem with it. That's the first step to admitting you love him. I'm very proud of you. Now, how about the rodent?\\
I'm...he's...
The answer was, of course, yes, but Botanica just couldn't give in and admit she was in love. Not any more then she could give her inner reason it's satisfaction of watching her prostrate herself before it in apology.
And so she sat, silent now in the wake of her sudden epiphany and stubbornness.
However, she couldn't stay in such a position forever, and soon she found the courage to glance up again and look Rattrap straight in the eye where he was glancing interestedly at her in anticipation of her answer.
"Rattrap...you..."
Suddenly she pulled back again, choking on her words. Primus curse him! Send him the Pit for all she cared. How could he do this to her? The voice was right: she loved him. But why, slaggit, why?! There was nothing particularly attractive about him, at least, nothing that would catch the eye of an idle onlooker. His personality left much to be desired, his outlook, pessimistic, and his attitude...
Her lips curled back in a snarl, and she growled, unconsciously, at the voice in her head. It was right, always right. Never could she get the hand up on anybody. Not on Retrax, not on Rattrap, not even with her own slagging conscience-
"Whoa, tree lady, don' be takin' it so personally, now!"
"Eh, Botanica, if I been insultin' ya too much then just say-"
"Rattrap, I wanted to apologize about last night."
The rodent looked up. "What?"
She glanced down for a minute before speaking. "I just wanted to apologize for my disorderly conduct last night, bursting in on you like that and pouring out my feelings. You saw a part of me that should never have bubbled over, and I'm sorry."
Head bent over her drink, she waited for the stinging remark that was bound to come, preparing herself for the barrage of accusations and disgust that was expected of him.
She was surprised to hear, instead, a short chuckle issue from his mouth. Laughing, he was laughing at her! Indignantly, she raised her head and said, "It isn't humorous, you unmannered rat, and I do demand that you stop that this instant."
Perhaps if Botanica had answered his gaiety in any other manner, she could have possible quelled his chortling. However, because she said it as such, the female doomed herself to only more embarrassment by way of laughter.
He continued to laugh, and she grew angrier. The urge to jump over the table and strangle him--or at least throttle him a bit--continued to rise within her. Urge to kill rising...rising...rising...
The laughter stopped.
"Primus, ya thought I was upset 'bout that? It's alright babe, no more need for an apology then we need Vehicons, if you catch my drift. Don' worry 'bout it."
She lifted her head. "You-you mean all this time I nervously wondered what to say, and you just brush it off like nothing else?!"
Facing settling itself into an accustomed scowl as Rattrap chuckled again, Botanica fell back into her chair, defeated. He was right; what was there to be worried about? Everyone had those momentarily lapses in character, and there was nothing one could do about it.
She sighed. "Rattrap, I-"
"Babe," he interjected, "forget about it. In fact, I think you need ta get ya mind off things for awhile. Hey, Silverbolt and Blackarachnia are out watchin' the sun rise. Wanna be copycat for a day?" He grinned, lifting an eyebrow to enhance his mischievous, toothy grin.
And for the first time in years, Botanica smiled back. "Sure, why not. Lead the way, vermin."
Rattrap chuckled for a moment. It was a different voice, and a different 'bot, but the rat's ears piqued at the sound of a nickname he'd thought had been lost so many years before. Perchance, there was hope for Botanica's verbal skills after all.
"Ya know tree-lady, Rattrap's the name, if that's too difficult for ya to catch on ta."
Retaining the grin set into her features, Botanica replied smoothly, "Rattrap, vermin, rodent, rat...there doesn't seem to be a difference to me. All dictate that you're a filthy, irritating creature, which you are, so what's the problem? After all, a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet-well, in your case, rotten." She finished her retort with an old Shakespearean quote she'd heard as a child and loved, a strange smile adorning her unreadable features.
Grinning back, Rattrap glanced over her for a minute. "A rose, eh? Better a rose then a tree, then," he laughed, and made his way through the tunnels, Botanica on his tail.
Yes, a rose,
she reflected gently, One to blossom with open arms when we need him...and maybe teach us a few things along the way.\\Your crazy, you know that?\\
Botanica laughed aloud. And you wouldn't want it any other way.
That was it?! *gasp* Chao-chan wrote a BM fic! :grins: Wasn't so bad, now was it? Please gimme feedback on this people. I personally enjoyed doing it, and I hope you did so while reading it. Bye bye for now!