"Dinner was amazing," Ratchet spoke quickly, picking up his bags after throwing on his jacket. As he passed the couch to head to the front door, he bent down and kissed her one last time on the cheek. "I'll be home no later than midnight. Again, I'm sorry love."

She smiled faintly, "I told you it was okay. We can just do something random and celebrate tomorrow, alright?"

He returned her smile, running a hand through her hair before standing straight. "Sounds like a plan." With one final glance, Ratchet turned away and walked out the front door, closing it behind him.

Ratchet shuffled in his seat as he tried his hardest to focus on the road ahead. His holographic hands clenched the wheel. He could feel his tanks churning and he groaned, shuttering his eyes. Oh, it was going to be another messy night, as per usual.

Finally, his turn came quickly and he drove through the gates, which had opened for him, welcoming him back into his Hell. He sighed when he saw Ironhide, in bipedal mode, waiting patiently outside the med bay. Ratchet deactivated his holoform and it wasn't until he got closer did he notice Sideswipe slouched on the ground, his back against the med bay doors. He appeared to be knocked out cold.

As the medic got close enough, he transformed into his bipedal mode and hadn't yet spoken a word. He knew what was coming. As if on cue, Ratchet bent forward and vomited what was gallons of blue, liquid energon. "Ugh," he groaned, shutting his optics tightly.

Ironhide looked concerned for a brief moment. "You need to stop eating that human food. Just because you can, doesn't mean you should."

"I'm the medic," Ratchet growled after the energon waterfall had subsided. "I think I would know. I can't just not eat in front of her."

"Your problem," Ironhide shrugged, rolling his optics. "Anyway, here's your favorite afthole." Though Ironhide's words seemed harsh, his expression appeared concerned. "Sides is going through his reboot, again. Don't know what the slag that 'Con did to him."

"I might've skipped a step reprogramming," Ratchet admitted. "I've had a lot on my mind lately."

"Like what?" Ironhide asked, hauling Sideswipe up to his feet. The lifeless looking Autobot slouched against the massive weapons specialist and Ironhide held him in place.

Ratchet sighed, "Midnight marks our five year anniversary," he explained.

"Celebrate tomorrow," Ironhide grunted. "You worry too much about these human customs. Five years ain't nothin'." He paused. "Besides, if she knew how old you really were, then she'd probably have a spark attack."

"Heart attack," Ratchet corrected. "And she'd better not know anything. Not until I decide."

"Whatever," Ironhide shuffled his position as his arm began to tire. "Just hurry up so I can put him somewhere."

Ratchet typed on the keypad on the door before it began to open. "Follow me." Ironhide did as told. Once inside, Ratchet pointed to a berth. "Set him down."

Again, Ironhide obliged. "He'll be fine, right?"

Ratchet sighed and rolled his optics. "Yeah. He'll be back to his usual, moronic self within a few hours."

"Perhaps when you're done, you'd consider pulling out whatever it is that died outta your tail pipe," Ironhide growled, folding his arms and shooting his cranky comrade a glare.

Ratchet had already begun the process of fixing Sideswipe, but clenched the tool in his hand and stood up straight. He glared back. "Get out."

"Yeah, yeah," Ironhide waved a hand at him. "I'm goin'. Comm-link me when afthole gets up so I can get him in the firing range. Warm ups."

"Will do," Ratchet huffed, getting back to work.

Three to four hours later, Sideswipe had risen from his Decepticon-induced slumber.

"Oh, man," Sideswipe groaned, rubbing his head with his hand. His head wobbled back and forth as his body slowly regenerated its strength. "What happened?"

Ratchet tossed his final tool back into the box. His optics were straining with the desire to get some rest. He turned to face Sideswipe. "Your systems kept rebooting, to put it short. Although I am not sorry to tell you that your processors are permanently damaged. Evidence suggests this likely occurred before the 'Con got to you. I'd guess as far back as birth," Ratchet snorted in his own amusement.

"Funny," Sideswipe sarcastically replied and proceeded to jump down from the berth. "But anyway, how's your chick?"

"My wife is fine," Ratchet corrected with a scowl. "As a matter of fact, I have to get home. I'm exhausted and I'm going to have a long day tomorrow. I'll see you the day after. Don't be an aft in the meantime and please don't piss off Ironhide."

Following Ratchet out of the med bay, the doors closed and locked. "I guess I can do that," Sideswipe replied. "See ya later. Thanks again, doc."

Transforming back into his alternate, Ratchet happily made his way out of the base and back to the place he missed so dearly. Home.

:Ironhide, he's all yours. Ratchet out.:

Ratchet unlocked the front door to his home, entering and quietly closing it behind him. He could tell from the complete silence that it was likely Luciana had already went to bed. Ratchet had unwillingly extended his stay beyond midnight. It was now one-thirty in the morning.

Placing his bags back on the floor and removing his jacket, he made his way upstairs. Opening the bedroom door slowly, he examined the room as he shut it behind him. The television was on, and the audio was muted. The ceiling fan whirled at the highest setting. He smiled, not knowing how she didn't freeze to death. He remembered how she always told him she couldn't sleep without that fan on.

Maneuvering around the bed to his designated side, he opened the dresser and quickly changed into the usual sleep-wear. Slowly, he pulled his side of the blankets down and melted in the mattress.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the relief of finally being able to sleep. The sudden feeling of an arm slowly wrapping around his chest made him open his eyes and smile.

"Ratchet," came the muffled voice.

Turning on his side, he was just barely able to see her face from the television light. "I'm here, sweetheart."

She smiled, her eyes half open. "I'm glad you're home." The volume of her voice rose as she became more awake. "I missed you."

"As did I," he replied, placing a gentle hand on her cheek. He leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

"I have a surprise for you tomorrow," she mumbled, and he could tell she was beginning to doze off again.

"Surprise, huh?" He chuckled. "How about a hint?"

She giggled quietly. "No way, it'll ruin it. You're too smart."

"You're evil," he joked, poking her belly. That was when he froze. Something wasn't right, but he couldn't pin-point what exactly. His own exhaustion was making him less aware.

"What's wrong?" She asked, staring into his face. She watched him raise his eyes from her torso back to her face.

"Nothing, love," he told her. "I'm just tired."

"How was your patient?" She asked.

He shrugged, "He'll live."

She chuckled at his tone. "You're so enthusiastic."

Ratchet let out a small laugh. "He's one of our more... obnoxious soldiers."

"I see," she smiled, and Ratchet could tell she was trying to keep herself awake.

"You're tired," he told her. "Go to bed. I'll see you in the morning." Kissing her mouth one final time, the two of them turned away from one another and fell into a deep sleep.