Alright, ladies and gents.

Same story, but new me! I'm back on FanFiction. Recently read some of my old stories from like.. years ago, and decided this one definitely deserved a re-write.

Please keep in mind that Ratchet may seem a bit out of character to some of you, but I can assure you that I will try my best to keep him a gentle, married man as well as the same ol' grump he normally is portrayed to be. *wink*

Chapter 1

Luciana Hill looked up and away from the book she was reading, and she smiled at the front door of her home as it opened. Walking in was Ratchet, her husband of almost five years. She closed the book's cover and placed it gently on the couch's arm rest. Folding one leg over the other, she leaned her head back as he kissed her softly.

"Hey," she grinned as he pulled away. "How was work?"

He shrugged, setting down his bags. "Same as it usually is. We haven't really had too much activity lately." He sighed, placing his jacket neatly on the hook in the hallway. "How are things?"

She shrugged, too. "Same as it usually is," she repeated with a wink. "I read some stuff here and there, cleaned a little, went for a walk, came home, read some more.." she trailed off, counting her fingers.

He shook his head with a laugh. "You have a car. Go out and do something with your friends."

She laughed out loud and jokingly replied. "Have you seen gas prices?"

"Well," he began, not deciding to think before he spoke. "You could always use the Hummer when I'm home."

She raised an eyebrow. "Did you not hear what I said about gas prices?" She chuckled, standing up from the couch to head into the dining room.

Ratchet closed his eyes and let out a silent, but frustrated, sigh when he knew she couldn't see him. He mentally slapped himself. "Sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"You tend to do that a lot these days," she appeared before him and chuckled, poking a finger in his side. Then she placed her finger under her chin, as if to think. "Actually, you've done that since basically the first day we met."

Smirking, he grabbed her and she giggled as he pulled her in close. "You think you're so funny, don't you?" He asked with a smile. He could feel her body relax and his arms did the same. Her hands reached up and rested against his forearms. He bent his neck downward and ran his lips gently along her cheek.

Turning her head towards his face, she smiled into his lips. Pulling away slowly, her delicate smile remained as he released her. "I don't know how you always manage to do that," she told him.

"Do what?" His question sounded genuine, but the crooked smile on his face told her he knew exactly what she meant.

She explained regardless, closing her eyes and sighing as if she was imagining him all over again for the first time. "Always managing to just sweep me off my feet and make me feel so special."

"You are wrong," he told her, and she offered him a pleasantly surprised stare. He lifted her up into his arms bridal-style. "This is me sweeping you off your feet, love."

"Oh, my God," she laughed, gently smacking his chest, though her face had turned a slight shade of red. She had wrapped her arms around his neck to hold herself in place. "Stop it, put me down!" She laughed once more.

With a triumphant grin, he did as told and placed her back on her feet. She shook her head as she made her way into the kitchen, and he followed. Opening the fridge, she grabbed a water and shut the door. "What's for dinner tonight?" Ratchet asked.

"I was kinda in the mood for chicken parm. It's in the oven already. That okay?" She asked, walking by him to head back to the living room.

He nodded, "Whatever you feel like making, sweetspark." He flinched. Not again. What was wrong with him lately? He bit his lip, waiting for her to question the term and began to think for a potential answer.

Instead, he was surprised to see that she did not bother to ask. She simply chuckled and sat back down on the couch. Grabbing the television remote, she turned it on and began to flip through the channels.

Sighing with relief, Ratchet went to sit down next to her. Before he even had the chance, the house phone began to ring. "I'll get it," he sighed, immediately turning to reach the cordless, black phone that sat on the table closest to him. The orange-illuminated screen showed a very familiar number. He walked it into the other room before answering. Taking a deep breath, he accepted the call with a growl. "Yes, Jimmy?"

Despite barely being able to hear him, Luciana smiled faintly at his tone, shaking her head with her eyes still glued to the television screen.

"Medic, what in the pit are you doing? I thought you'd still be here at the slaggin' base," came the gruff response.

Looking back at Luciana as if she could hear his words, he made sure she wasn't paying him any mind before he responded. He turned his back to her and mumbled into the phone. "You know you can't call this number and use that language, Ironhide."

"Yeah, yeah," Ironhide sighed. "Calm down. We need you back here."

"For what?" Ratchet snapped, pacing back towards the living room. Luciana then focused her attention on him. "What happened now?"

"Sideswipe's still not doing good. His systems are all jacked," Ironhide replied. "Last mission definitely took a toll on him. Which is why I called you on this phone. You know, so Luci doesn't get suspicious."

Ratchet sighed and wiped his hand down his face. "Alright. I'll be there in an hour. Keep him contained. He'll live until I'm done with dinner."

"See you then."

Ratchet hung up and placed the phone back at its receiver angrily. He groaned, just standing there without moving for a few, brief moments. "Everything okay?" Luciana asked.

Ratchet shook his head and turned to face her. "No. One of my patients is still not right. I'll have to return to the med bay after dinner."

"Oh," her face dropped enough for Ratchet to notice. She was upset, he could tell. "That's alright." She stood up. "I'll go check on it. It should be about done."

Before she could, he placed a hand on her shoulder and stopped her. She made eye contact and he began to speak. "I'm sorry, Luci." He frowned. "I will make this up to you. I know you wanted to discuss plans for tomorrow."

"That's okay, Ratch'. It's not your fault. I get nervous at the thought of you possibly getting thrown into war zones, but I know you make an amazing contribution to our soldiers here at home," she smiled and like always, he melted at how she always made him feel so much better.

His hand moved to her face, and his thumb caressed her cheek. No words were necessary to show her how grateful he truly was. After a moment of mental communication, he lowered his hand and watched as she continued to make her way back into the kitchen.