Hee hee hee. What happens when Diablo meets Fowler. Ratchet gets a new stresser, thats what!

Nevra's Lost Chapters: By Fate and Energon Bound.

Fowler vs Diablo

Or Ratchet should probably delegate some things.

Special Agent William Fowler sighed, knowing that he would get his daily report from Ratchet the Hatchet. He wasn't a happy man. In fact, he and Ratchet did not get along. The medic was abrasive, grouchy and snide, and Fowler had enough on his plate without that jerk messing up his nerves.

He waited for Ratchet to pick up, watching the screen with his ordinary look of irritation. Finally, the mech of his nightmares appeared, chevron, frown and all.

"Agent Fowler." Grumbled Ratchet, just as happy about this meeting as Fowler.

"Ratchet." Replied Fowler.

The awkward silence that followed was broken by Ratchet. "Well, now that the preliminaries are done, shall we continue?"

"Let's." Said Fowler. "You bunch have been dangerously quiet."

"I thought you preferred us quiet." Ratchet said gruffly.

"At least when you 'Bots are causing trouble, I know what you're up to."

The ambulance glared. "Shall I report now?"

"I'm not stopping you."

The medic launched into his report, mentioning the need for certain parts that he could use for spares, locating new energon reserves, and the few battles that occurred near civilians.

Of course, it was then Diablo toddled out of his quarters and into the hanger.

"Hey, Hatchet. The organics are being nuisances. Thought you said I needed rest."

Miko was on his shoulder. "No fair, dude."

"Life isn't fair." Growled Diablo. He picked her up and set her in the human area, grinning.

"Ratchet, what in the Sam Hill is that?" Demanded Fowler.

Diablo suddenly looked over at the monitor. "What's with the squishy?"

"Holy-!" Exclaimed Fowler, as Diablo appeared in the camera's line of sight. "What the hell is that?"

"What the slag is that!" Said Diablo mockingly.

"I was coming to you." Grumbled Ratchet.

"Well, I prefer my own introductions." Replied the Kaonian. "What is this organic's purpose? Hacking, making loud noises or sitting with a stick up it's tailpipe?"

Miko snickered. Fowler stared at the red terror. "So when were you going to tell me about this joker?"

"I was coming to him." Said Ratchet. "This is Diablo. He's a Neutral who came asking for our assistance."

"He looks like Bucket-head." Remarked the agent.

"who came up with that?" Diablo asked, grinning. "I gotta go tell Megsy."

"You associate with Decepticons, soldier?"

"Maybe. Kind of hard not to." The red warrior shrugged. "So, what is this one's function again?"

"Shut up Diablo." Snapped Ratchet.

The horned mech chuckled. "No thank you. I'll be in my quarters if you need more antagonism."

Didn't know he knew such a big word, thought the medic darkly as the winged mech left. Fowler was staring daggers at the Cybertronian through the screen.

"Ratchet. Do you want to tell me why a practical doppelganger of Lord Kill Everything is toddling around your base? And why Prime would allow it?"

"Want to? No. Should I? Probably." The medic said sourly. "Why don't you come over here and hear it from Optimus himself?"

"Depends." Said Fowler. "Am I going to be spending most of my time trying not to die?"

The look Ratchet gave him said 'are you fragging serious?'. Fowler sighed. "Fine. I'm on my way."

"Don't hurry." Said Ratchet. He then ended transmission. And rested his helm in the wall, exhaling.

Primus, he hated that man.

Arcee walked into the room and saw Ratchet just standing there, staring at the elevator like it was going to bite him. That could only mean one thing. Fowler was coming.

The blue femme decided to leave before it started. Optimus wasn't here to keep the two from killing each other, and she wanted nothing to do with this.

She was halfway to safety when suddenly Diablo walked by.

"aren't you on bedrest?" She asked him.

"You're kidding, babe." He chuckled. "I wouldn't miss this for all the energon on this planet."

"You're easily entertained."

"Indeed. I believe humans call it boredom."

Arcee rolled her optics and kept going. If he wanted blood so bad, he should watch human reality television.

Fowler stepped through the elevator, frowning as soon as he saw the medic.

"Ratchet."

"Agent Fowler. You are here to talk to Optimus?"

"Yeah. That'd be nice."

Ratchet nodded. "He's on his way. Take a seat."

Fowler opened his mouth to say something, only to stop and sigh. He wandered over to the couch and sat, which is when Diablo made his appearance.

"Hey, Ratch." He said loudly. "Where's the Organic. I'm hungry!"

Fowler looked up abruptly, eyes wide as a cat meme's. Diablo was watching and chuckled. "So, how many pets do we have, Doc?"

"Diablo, they aren't pets."

"Whatever." Said the horned mech, approaching Fowler. The agent gulped. Diablo was as tall as Megatron, his armour dented, scratched, scarred and chipped, optics orangey red. He looked down at the little organic, and grinned.

"Fowler, eh. What's your purpose?"

The agent looked up, hoping that this guy wasn't like a dog, and could smell fear. "I'm Special Agent William Fowler, designated liaison for the U.S government to the Autobots."

Diablo grinned. "Huh. Pretty stressful, huh, human?"

"Sometimes." Admited Fowler

"Like, if I did this." Said Diablo. He suddenly picked Fowler up, claws ripping the humans shirt. "What kind of creature wears such flimsy armour?"

Fowler squeaked. "Put me down!"

Diablo grinned, and held Fowler in front of his face like a bug. "Make me, squishy."

The two glared at each other until Ratchet said, "Put the human down, Diablo."

The horned Kaonian looked at the ambulance, grinned even wider and said to Fowler. "Wanna frag with Hatchet's processor?"

Fowler stopped struggling. He looked at the red mech thoughtfully.

"I'm listening." The human said cautiously.

It was three days after the human had come to discuss Diablo's presence with the Prime. It had been decided Diablo would be watched carefully, and that Ratchet would report back to Fowler today.

The medic sighed, and fired off a report to Fowler. Not an oral one, thank Primus. Ratchet had enough to deal with.

About a minute after, something popped up on the screen. Ratchet turned and looked at the screen.

Thanks for signing up for cat facts daily. You will now receive daily facts about cats.

What the Pit was this?

Another stream of text appeared. To unsubscribe, press 8.

Annoyed, Ratchet pressed 8.

Action not recognised. Thank you for subscribing to daily cat facts. Did you know cats have thirty vertebrae? Would you like a cat fact every hour? Yes, or No?

Frag. Why wasn't this working. Ratchet sent 'No'.

Command not recognized. Did you know in Ancient Egypt killing a cat was punishable with death?

Ratchet's optic twitched.

In another part of the base, Diablo chuckled as Fowler sent him ideas, and then the red mech sent them to Ratchet over a modified human computer.

He turned on the speaker, and Fowler's face appeared. "Is it time?"

"I believe so, squishy." Diablo said with a grin. "Wait for it."

A minute passed, and Diablo sent two more messages, then sat back.

"Five… Four…. Three…. Two…. And que."

Ratchet's scream of frustration was heard all around the base. The two mischief makers grinned at each other over the screen.

"Pleasure doing business with you, fleshie." Said Diablo.

"Like wise, bot." Said Fowler, grinning a little too happily as the melodious sounds of frustrated Hatchet echoed down the hall and through his speakers.

Again. Hee hee hee.