Update here! :) I didn't mean to miss last week, but my computer was down and not working. I'm going out of town once more before school starts again, so I probably won't have an update next week. I hope to have one after that, though. :)

Chapter 14

Superpowers

Ratchet began to relax as the scrubbing went smoothly. Ironhide remained peacefully in recharge, and Chromia quit teasing the Medic quite so much, praising him from time to time instead. This worked wonders on the rough old Bot. Chromia knew her powers. And she had quite a few.

"This is going surprisingly well." Ratchet said presently, surveying the work.

"Yes, it is." Optimus said encouragingly but cautiously. He didn't want to discourage his Medic, but he wasn't letting his guard down just yet.

"Just wait until we're doing it to you and see how you like it then," Chromia teased the Prime.

"Uh-uh-uh-uh, not happening!" Optimus shook his head. "We already covered that." His velvety voice deepened a little as he worked to be stern. He knew she wouldn't tease him so much if Ironhide been awake.

Ratchet knew it, too. Ratchet chuckled.

"RATCHET!" Ironhide roared, completely and utterly enraged.

Three pairs of optics flew wide with horrow, and both Optimus and Ratchet hit the floor that second, getting out of sight as fast as possible. Chromia's mouth flopped open for a split second, but she collected herself in an instant.

"Do I look like Ratchet?" Chromia asked coyly as she leaned over her mech. She placed her body such that it pressed against the mech's unarmored side.

Ironhide was distracted for a moment before he glared at her. "Where's Ratchet." he demanded to know.

"You don't want him around here, do you?" she asked, caressing his helm with her fingers as she put her lips closer to his and dropped to a whisper. "I personally think he'd spoil this..."

"Chromia." Ironhide growled. "Where. Is. Ratchet." Ironhide had now discovered the restraints and was jerking at them.

"Why, what do you want ol' Ratchet for, my spark?" she pretended innocent ignorance.

"So I can pound him into scrap." Ironhide didn't mince words. "Now you answer my question. Where. Is. He."

Chromia paused, deciding what course to take with her angry spark-mate. She knew she wasn't going to tell him anything, but she wasn't entirely sure what she was going to do instead. Perhaps just trying different tactics until one work would do.

She leaned closer. "We can pound him later," she cooed.

"No." He jerked his restraints again, "Now."

So, that didn't work.

Chromia wandered away from the mech, thereby informing him of her disinterest in continuing that line of discussion. Walking slowly with just enough emphasis in the movement of her hips, she hoped to draw his thoughts away from Ratchet.

She heard him kicking and growling behind her, though, and knew that that tactic had failed. This was annoying. That tactic usually worked. She went over to the counter to get a wipe to clean her hands in pretended indifference. And then she heard Ironhide get quiet.

At the silence, her alert systems kicked up to a higher level. She smiled cunningly; her instincts knew her mech. He was planning something. And she had to be ready.

She paused and peeked at him out of the corner of her optic.

He was trying to pull his cannons from subspace, apparently hoping that it would overload the energy bonds that restrained him. Only Ratchet had temporarily disabled the subspace-pullers.

"ARRRR!" He bellowed in frustration. "WHERE'S RATCHET!" He yelled, but it wasn't directed at Chromia. He rarely ever yelled at his femme. And he always regretted it when he did.

Chromia decided that she would buff her fingers while she was leaning on the counter. She didn't do it often, for she prefered polishing her cannons, and it took time. It would be a good pass-time. She took out her little clothe and a bit of waxy polish and dipped the clothe in and began work on her first finger.

"RRRRRRRRACTHET!" Ironhide yelled.

Chromia buffed the tip a little extra and examined it.

Ironhide growled and then yelled again. "RAAAAAAATCHET!"

She hadn't noticed the new little scuff on the first joint before. She took out a little paint applicator and touched up the little scuff, hiding it. Then she blew it to speed up the drying process.

"RATCH-EHHHHHHT!"

Satisfied that the paint was dry, Chromia went on to polish it a little more.

"RATCHET!"

"I don't think he's coming." Chromia said, not looking up from her polishing.

"Then where is he?" Ironhide wasn't quite as demanding as before. He'd finally gotten a response from someone, anyway. And he knew that Chromia might respond better if he didn't go ordering her about. He wanted answers. And when he was tied down, he couldn't shove and threaten to get them. He'd have to ask nicely. Especially since it was his femme.

The femme smirked ever so slightly as she shrugged nonchalantly. "He doesn't check in with me when he decides to go somewhere."

Ironhide smiled. He knew Chromia too well to be misled. That little smirk had given her away.

"Chromia," he said, "You know exactly where he is."

Chromia chuckled in defeat. "Alright, I do. So what?"

"So tell me where he is." He said doggedly. What else could he say to persuade her? "Please?"

"Mech, mech, I'm not telling you." She replied, stilling busy with her fingertips.

Ironhide considered a few things, all while gently tugging at the bonds to see if there was any weakness in them, then he stopped. "He's near isn't he?" he asked.

"Near or far, it doesn't really matter cuz I'm not telling." Her fingers were starting to look very nice again. Not quite as nice as Elita's, for Elita gave constant and careful care to hers. Elita wasn't prissy, she'd get her hands scuffed and filthy without hersitation, but she always cleaned them up nicely afterwards. Chromia usually just washed the dirt off and went on. She decided that it was her rough upbringing.

"He's right here in Med-Bay, isn't he?" Ironhide said, a little cunning look touching his face.

Chromia knew Ironhide wouldn't rest or give in if he knew Ratchet was within hearing range. She didn't want that one bit. She frowned.

And then she smiled. She'd just thought of something fun that both of them would enjoy. One of her superpowers.

"Tell you what," She said, putting away her clothe and wax and approaching the mech.

"What…?" Ironhide prompted, watching her expectantly. He wanted the answer. He wanted to know where Ratchet was.

Chromia came close and put her hands behind her back. "This," she slowly unlatched and removed the armoring that covered her middle and stood there with a bare midriff.

A smile curved the mech's lips upwards as his optics took in the graceful lines of the silver-colored cords and cables that formed the metal muscles of his femme's abs.

"Still want Ratchet?"

"Want… who?" he purred softly. She grinned back at him and slipped the bit armoring into subspace.

She leaned over him again, "Now," she whispered, "Be good."

"My hands are tied; I'll have to." He said reproachfully.

She kissed his lips. "They won't always be." She said and picked up a brush and spray bottle.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Ironhide's optics shifted from her middle to the tools of torture in her hands, "What are these?"

She squirted a good bit of vinegar in his shoulder for answer.

His expression was rather unreadable as he watched. He was probably mostly startled, Chromia decided, poor mech. He probably didn't know what to think. Or perhaps the sedative hadn't worn off entirely and was still slowing his systems.

She smiled at him and waved the brush before threading into his shoulder workings and scrubbing.

There was quiet for a few moments before the mech finally spoke again.

"It tickles just a little…" he said tentatively, not sure if it was going to hurt later.

"Ratchet toned down the sensors so you wouldn't feel it much." Chromia explained.

"Oh..." He was realizing that this procedure wasn't quite as horrific as he imagined it. Chromia was so very graceful. And the vinegar didn't even smell all that bad, he realized. He checked his olfactory sensor-system. Ratchet hadn't done anything with it. He was smelling accurately.

"What?" Chromia asked, observing the thoughtful expression on her mech's face.

"It smells bad." He said gruffly, intending to be consistent with his complaints but knowing Chromia would probably see through his ruse.

Chromia grinned at him as she turned to get another brush. It hadn't fooled her. He hadn't expected it to, so he didn't mind at all, and he loved her grin and the way the slivery cabling in her middle tightened or rippled when she moved.

She turned back with the new brush and gave her mech a flirty look before going to refill her vinegar bottle. He watched. Chromia glanced back to see if he was, and she grinned at him when she saw that he was. And he seemed quite content.

Her superpowers were working great.

Hope you liked it! :) I'll update next year! ;)