Ignition
Chapter 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.
Optimus Prime came out of recharge, avoiding onlining his optics. His head hurt, his processor was sluggish and a quick check of his internal chronometer showed it wasn't nearly as late has he thought. Obviously the high grade was wearing off, a particularly potent batch of hooch supplied by Perceptor and the twins. Then there was the stuff Kup had produced somewhere near the middle of the impromptu gathering. The stuff which lead to now. The part where he was sharing his berth the last mech he would've chosen.
Given circumstances, however, he knew he had. Several times already. And now he suddenly found himself looking up into a pair of optics. The mech looking down at him had an optic ridge raised in question.
:Everything OK?:
Optimus nodded.
:Good. Go back to sleep. You worry too much.:
The last comment was given with a quick, soft kiss, followed by the grinding of the other mech's frame into his own. Optimus didn't ignore the desire growing between them as his spark flared toward the other. How long had it been since he last lived in a moment?
Saturday morning. At least he thought it was morning. No. Not morning, Optimus reflected, once again checking his chronometer. Closer to noon local time. And the base was dead, from the looks of things. No NEST humans running about with their daily duties, and his Autobots were equally quiet. Disturbing. Prowl was supposed to be on duty in ops, so maybe he had things well in hand?
:Prowl:
:Yes?:
:Everything all right?:
:Fine. The Wreckers left this morning, a little later than planned, and Ratchet and I agreed considering how late the party went, to give everyone a break. Just once. With your permission, of course. I've made a few changes to the duty roster for the rest of the day, taking into account who didn't get overcharged last night. So you're off the rest of the day. Sir.:
:Carry on, Prowl. And thank you:
:You're always welcome:
Knowing when he wasn't needed, the Autobot leader went back to his quarters, crawled into his berth, falling into a deep recharge.
One week later
Ratchet waited until the med bay was cleared out to confront his leader with his findings. He needed privacy and a few moments to collect himself before he did something regretful. Like offlining his dear Prime with his favorite wrench. Permanently. Then he would miss the chance to redress the other Autobot for his current condition and stupidity. At least Optimus was stable, and he received the worst of the injuries from the latest tangle with the Decepticons. The medic's intakes hitched as he sighed. Why me? he thought, walking from his office.
Seeing the medic, Optimus swung his legs off the med berth, ready to leave, with Ratchet's permission, of course.
Ratchet looked down at him, arms crossed.
"Where do you think you're going?" he asked.
"To my quarters," Optimus said.
"In a few moments," Ratchet said. "There is something I need to tell you."
"I'm all right, aren't I? You completed my repairs," Optimus said.
"In a manner of speaking, yes," Ratchet said.
"Then what's the matter?"
Ratchet decided the direct approach was best, so he spat it out.
"You're sparked," he said.