"Well now, that's.."

"Don't say it."

"What? I was just"

"Don't say it."

"Well you have to admit that"

"You want a new dent in your helm?"

"Hmm, well that's a fox of a different color."

Optimus didn't understand why his medic was groaning with his head in his hand while his weapons specialist laughed.

Some days it was just better not to know.


"ACK!"

"HEY! Watch it!"

A yip came from the wash racks as a rather changed Wildstrike bounded out. A good scrubbing had taken off the grime accumulated from…. well no one really wanted to guess the bot had a good cleaning, the bot itself included. Now the fox-transformer was a pale gold fading to white on its belly with dark indigo spotting. Oddly enough the facial markings were the same as a grey fox's, just in the bot's own colors. The grin on his face matched his stance, pure mischief.

Then Hound and Bluestreak walked out.

"What happened to you two!?"

The bots looked down to see the familiar forms of Robert Epps and Will Lennox. Both looked rather amused at the sight of the two dripping mechs and the grinning (dry) wild.

Hound stood a bit straighter even as he accepted one of the oversized towels they kept from Bluestreak. "Lesson one when helping a Wild wash up, make sure to stand at least 30 feet back before allowing it to shake off excess water. The results speak for themselves."

Bluestreak just grumbled under his breath as the humans laughed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Hey guys, is that one of Wheeljack's drones?"

The rather loud growl that followed that question had Cliffjumper backing up.

"You really need to pay attention. This is Wildstrike, he's a Wild Spark."

"Oh, why didn't he just say so?"

"Can't, viral collar."

"Um…"

"Maybe you should sort out your questions later."

"Right, bye guys."

Bluestreak and Hound watched as the red mech hurried over to the communications room.

"Ever get the feeling you've fallen into the Pit and the Unmaker is laughing at you?"

"Yup."

"Recently?"

"Only when that Con was staring down his gun at me."

"Point. So, what now?"

"'Strike?"

The Wild had been following along, content to listen to the banter and feel the sun on his pelt. It was good to be clean again!

Granted, that meant there was now an excuse to come back dirty. Those two were really good with scrubbing.

And why were they looking at him?

"Any particular place you want to see? Perhaps some energon? We'll figure out a way for you to enjoy some if you'd like."

Perked ears and the tail flying had Hound laughing and Bluestreak wondering what was going on until the info was comm'd to him.

"Energon it is. Any ideas on a way to make it accessible to 'Strike? The cubes won't work while he's stuck."

"Hmm, baby pool?"

"That… actually might work. At least for size, let me comm. Ratchet."

Wildstrike followed along, amused as ever.


The humor from the wash racks had kept Epps going full tilt most of the day. He was strongly reminded of when Will tried to help him wash his sister's St. Bernard.

"What's that sound?"

The assembled ARMY regulars looked around d the massive hanger trying to figure out where the low humming noise was coming from.

The hangar was divided into sections for the Autobots to use, partially to help keep things separated, partially to curb data-pad avalanches from claiming unwary victims.

Optimus' 'office'section had reinforced walls just to be safe.

Epps spotted a rather amused looking Ratchet eyeballing a corner of one of the empty sections.

"Ratchet?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know what that strange humming is?"

Ratchet smirked, usually a worrisome expression, and pointed into the Autobot sized cubicle.

Once he got a clear look, Epps couldn't help smirking himself.

Curled up in a corner, paws on either side of the large dish, Wildstrike lapped up glowing energon, tail tip flicking a bit, optics shuttered, and a look of contentment on his fox-face.

"That good, huh?"

The wild didn't even bother turning an audio towards them.

"It's been a while since he's had any at all I wager, and a full tank does wonders for one's mood, regardless of species."

As if to prove the point Epps' stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly.

The humming sound stopped as the wild looked up, head cocked like a confused pup with a look of amusement on his face.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going. "

"And Epps?"

"Don't worry, I'll drag Will along too."

The wild chuffed before going back to the metal coated baby pool of energon.

When Ratchet added another few gallons without being asked, Wildstrike decided he might just like the medic after all.