Author's Note: Sorry for the long delay on all my stories. I haven't been much for writing lately. I start Basic Training for the Air Force March 15, so I've been a little edgy lately. Chaos Knight's gotten a plot bunny in my head though, so here's more mech nonsense.

"Human thought is so primitive, it's looked upon as an

infectious disease in some of the better galaxies.

The kind of makes you proud, doesn't it?"

- Kay, MIB

Ch. 25: Impulse

Glancing up from the datapad he was working on, Ratchet sighed heavily through his vents. The little long-haired human was making soft happy noises to herself as she helped sort loose parts on Perceptor's desk. While he did appreciate that she was trying to be helpful and not go out of her way to torture him, he knew the scientist was going to have a fit when he saw her work. Joey had a bolt nearly half as big as she was in her arms and was hugging it to her as she did a little awkward shuffle to get it into the bin on a corner of the desk.

The little happy sounds had morphed into a muttered tune as she dragged each stray bit of machinery to the bin and wrestled it into the slots.

"Talking by the campfire. It's the simple things in life like when and where. We didn't have no internet, but man I never will forget-"

"Joey," he warned with a soft rumble as her mumbling became actual words. The little human looked up with a sheepish look, before falling silent. It wasn't long though before she started humming and then singing the same song again. They'd been at it for over an hour and the human song was starting to worm its insidious way into his processor.

He shook his head slightly to clear it, reevaluating whether she was out to torment him or not. She certainly looked innocent enough as she cleared the desk.

"Ratchet!"

The medic sighed as Perceptor darted into the room, obviously flustered and staring at Joey. The human offered him a jaunty little wave as the scientist ignored her and hurried over to Ratchet.

"It's on my desk! Touching my things!" He hissed, darting furtive glances at the human.

Ratchet sighed through his vents. "She cleared off your desk for you," he said, glancing suspiciously at the human. She'd hoisted herself up onto the parts bin and was sitting there with her legs swinging.

Perceptor glanced at her and then back at his friend. "It's getting… germs on my things," he whispered, optics frantic as he gestured at the girl.

Ratchet raised an optic ridge, before heaving himself out of his chair. Joey had apparently overheard, because she wasn't smiling anymore. The tiny human looked positively vicious as she eyed Perceptor.

"You know," she said slowly to Perceptor. "It can hear and comprehend you."

"Remove it, please," Perceptor said, his words bordering on a demand as he ignored her.

Joey bristled at the red mech. Oh, so he thought she was a germ-ridden unintelligent animal? She stood up, reaching in her pocket and digging around until she found a receipt from an earlier trip outside. Smiling as innocently as she could, she pranced over to the edge of the desk right in front of Perceptor. The mech recoiled as though she were diseased and still smiling sweetly, she blew her nose on the scrap of paper, wadded it up… and tossed it into the armor gap between his joints.

Ratchet put his face in his hands as Perceptor screeched, flailing backwards and crashing into a cabinet and sending it toppling onto him. The medic turned his glower on Joey and the girl smiled.

They both glanced over at Perceptor as he thrashed, screeching. "Oh Primus it's in me! Get it out! GET IT OUT!"

"Now I got germs on his things," Joey announced as she rocked back and forth in place, enjoying the spectacle the red mech was making in his frenzy.

"Fraggit, Ratch!"

The medic's optics narrowed ever so slightly as Jazz huffed and resisted the urge to fidget again. It was a wise decision considering the medic had reached over and now had a wrench in hand. "How the Pit did you manage to get your arm about torn off?" He snarled, purposefully prodding the damaged strut as Jazz hissed and wriggled.

"We was just sparrin," he mumbled in his most soothing tone, eyeing the medic. He could practically see one of Ratchet's optics twitch as a low rumble escaped him.

"If you want to get some exercise, then I'm sure Ironhide would be more than happy to put you through your paces," the medic snarled, hands rough as he kept working.

Jazz shrugged, earning him another snarl and a light rap upside his helm from the medic. "It was fun until Cliffjumper took my arm about off."

"You were sparring with Cliffjumper?" He sounded incredulous as poked around Jazz's insides. "Do I need to do a scan on your processor?" Ratchet growled and continued to repair the torn wiring.

"Nah, Doc," he said, smiling half-heartedly. "Ya don't mess with perfection."

Ratchet snorted at him, but didn't retaliate. Jazz for his part sat still, staring at his hands in boredom. He gave a soft, surprised rev as Ratchet started muttering almost too low to hear. After a moment of listening, Jazz's optics widened. Ratchet… was singing?

"Watching the waves roll off the rocks, she'll forever hold a spot inside my soul…"

"Ratch-man… you singin?"

Ratchet instantly glowered at him, falling silent. The saboteur pouted as he realized Ratchet wasn't going to sing anymore. Jazz tapped the human's information network, smirking as he found and downloaded Ratchet's mysterious song.

Smirking faintly, Jazz sat still as the medic finished his repair work, all the while humming almost too softly to hear.

"SIPPING WHISKEY OUT THE BOTTLE, NOT THINKING ABOUT TOMORROW. SINGING SWEET HOME ALABAMA ALL SUMMER LONG!" Jazz preened as the other mechs gave him sideways looks as he walked down the hall blasting his new song.

He had to step to the side though as Perceptor ran past followed closely by Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. The twins were both crooning the words, 'put it on yoooou," as they chased the hysterical scientist.

He passed Wheeljack in the hall and the engineer shot him a curious look as Jazz danced in a circle around him before continuing on his way to a meeting with Optimus. Wheeljack huffed softly in amusement as he headed on down the long stretch of corridor, Jazz's song bouncing around his processor. His lips pulled into a smile behind his face mask as Joey appeared from a doorway, flouncing down the hall towards him.

"What'd you do to Jazz?" He called out as the human slowed and stopped.

"Haven't seen him, why?" She asked, moving closer to the relative safety of Wheeljack's right leg. When you barely reached ankle-height on most mechs, standing still in the middle of the halls was a bad idea. While Wheeljack wasn't the safest guardian, she was fairly sure he wasn't going to spontaneously explode right that second on the basis that his hands were empty.

"He was singin' was all," the engineer replied with a shrug, his New York accent and slow deliberate drawl making her lips twitch.

'Hey, do me a favor," she demanded, touching his leg and the much larger mech rumbled uneasily. "Say 'youths.'"

Vocal indicators flickering, he tipped his head to regard the human suspiciously. "….Yutes?"

Her grin widened perceptibly as he made a confused little noise. "Ever seen the movie My Cousin Vinny?"

"Er, no. Can't say as I have."

She held up her arms, fingers wiggling in what he'd learned meant pick me up. With a resigned sigh, he carefully picked her up as she beamed at him. "We have to watch it. It's a must."

"This isn't going to work," Ratchet muttered as Wheeljack fiddled with his newest toy.

The engineer harrumphed and continued his tweaking as Ratchet and Ironhide exchanged a glance. "Highgrade says it blows up."

"I checked the measurements myself," Wheeljack snapped, shooting a cranky look at the two other mechs as he continued his adjustments.

"That hardly means it's correct," Ironhide muttered in what he'd assumed had been too low a tone for the engineer to pick up.

Wheeljack brandished his wrench in a credible mimicry of Ratchet. "My measurements are all balls-on accurate."

Ratchet, who'd narrowed his eyes, blinked and Ironhide frowned. "What?" They both asked at the same time in the same incredulous tones.

"It's an industry term," Wheeljack grumbled, defending himself as he returned to work, yanking some of the wiring free to fiddle with it.

Ironhide just couldn't let it go, though. "The Pit is that a-"

"Humans use it."

"But-"

"I know a lot more industry terms."

Drift paused to see Joey sitting on his berth, her short legs swinging freely over the edge. "Where have you been all day?" He asked, moving over to sit beside the little organic.

She shrugged slightly, her expression sly. "Around."

He raised an optic ridge, rumbling quietly. "Doing…?"

She gave a soft bark of laughter, flopping back on the berth and using her arms to pillow her head. "Spreading the insanity that is human thought."

The red and white youngling tipped his head to one side. "You say the weirdest things some times."

"Oh, I know."

He huffed softly. "You could have at least invited me. I like chaos."

"Mmm chaos…" She purred, giggling as he huffed again. The two were silent for some time, until Drift fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Did you really put the twins up to putting… 'fishing worms' down Perceptor's armor?"