Well, this one is probably going to be one of the shortest chapters I think I've ever posted. One of my first-ever favorite fanfics that I found had very short chapters like this, basically one for every scene, and although I'm not looking at going to that for this story, it does suit my purpose for the time being. I'm planning one more short chapter like this (basically, this and that chapter—which will be coming next—were originally supposed to be part of Chapter 9) and then my goal is to get back to longer chapters, maybe even as long as the ones in 'Voltage' (those I tried to keep at a minimum of 2k words per chapter, whereas this story and 'The Catalyst' average more like 1200 to 1500 words per chapter.

So, authors and readers—any opinion on word count? Do you like longer chapters, or does it not matter as long as the scenes are developed enough?

Whatever your preference, happy reading!

Another evening in the lounge, sipping on another cube of regular energon while also staring at a cube of high-grade that he was not about to touch.

It was not really how Ratchet preferred to spend his evenings, however Jazz had a bad habit of dragging him along on outings like this. Telling him he needed to be 'social' or some scrap like that.

Mundane was what it was. But Ratchet valued Jazz's friendship, and for all he knew the silver minibot was the one who needed company. So Ratchet went along with it.

However, that did not mean he was going to go out of his way to make small talk.

"So how was it in the lab today?" Jazz asked, probably the fifth question so far that night. "Did you find an antidote for that tox-en stuff you were talking about?"

No, not even close. In fact, Ratchet felt as if he had wasted his entire decaorn on that project without even getting so much as the slightest bit closer to having a solution. "Can we not talk about that right now, please?"

Jazz lifted his hands placatingly. "Okay. So what do you want to talk about, then?"

"I don't care," Ratchet retorted. "Anything else."

"I've got something you'll probably want to talk about," Jazz replied, never being one to take the medic's gruff attitude seriously. "How about Ironhide?"

Ratchet let out a long, irritated sigh, not bothering to look Jazz in the optic. "Why does everyone think I want to talk about him?"

"You said 'anything else'," Jazz teased the larger mech. "Anyway, he was admitted to the med bay late last night."

Ratchet glanced up then, though not for long before his optics dropped back down to his energon cube. "So what happened? Did he get into it with a 'Con again?"

"No, actually," Jazz countered, his tone distinctly serious now. "He had a spark attack. Even flatlined before they managed to bring him back."

Ratchet's gaze snapped up at that, a mixture of confusion and disbelief written across his faceplates. "A spark attack? Caused by what?"

Ironhide had never shown any signs of that. Not in any of Ratchet's exams, anyway.

But Jazz merely shook his head. "They don't know. He was found unresponsive in a hallway. I guess he was awake this morning."

Ratchet said nothing for a long moment, glancing away and finally responding but with nothing more than a faint 'hmm'.

Jazz was quiet for a long moment too, deciding that maybe he should change the subject. After all, he had not intended to upset Ratchet shortly before the mech retired for the night. "Hey, Ratch," he began, "are you going to try your high grade? Works really well to help me relax."

Ratchet glanced at him, casting him a stern look that seemed to indicate that either he was tired of all the questions or he was sick of hearing about high-grade.

"If I try it," the medic responded, "will you stop bothering me about it?"

Jazz was actually surprised by that, as the medic had never acted like he was going to along with the idea. Something about it being for... what was the word Ratchet had used?

Oh, yeah. 'Idiots'.

Jazz chuckled. "Ha. You have my word, Ratch."

"Well, I hope you keep it," Ratchet shot back playfully, "otherwise I'm never listening to you again."

The silver minibot smiled at that, taking a sip from his cube of high-grade.

Ratchet grabbed his, hoping to get this over with, though he paused to look at the pale blue liquid which he had for so long done well to avoid.

He better not get a headache from this...