I love reviews! Thank you all so much :)
Oh, and I am making a Ratchet and Clank cosplay for NYCC and Otakon! Find my story on Archive of Our Own (I use the same username and the title is the same) if you want to see a picture in progress.
Ratchet and Clank were quickly interrupted by Clank's body's indicator light flashing, Ratchet feeling it pulse through his tiny frame.
"Uh… what does that mean?" Ratchet asked worriedly, flicking at the antennae.
"Commlink… or a malfunctioning sprocket about to explode," Clank replied casually, as he ripped off another piece of sweetbread. "I cannot discern the two by looking."
"Great."
"If it is the comms, pop open the front shutter and my comms screen will emerge. Otherwise, you need to go back downstairs for some repair. You should have at least half an hour before a complete failure."
Ratchet focused on opening the access panel, and a name provided itself to him in his mind. "It's a call from Tal," he said, uneasily.
Clank flicked at the screen and a visual popped up of the young Markazian. "Hey Ratchet. Clank," she said cheerfully.
Clank looked over to Ratchet, hiding behind the screen and gesturing as though he'd dropped a Protopet down his now nonexistent pants, and Clank, after his years of traveling with Ratchet, correctly guessed that he needed to keep up the ruse until otherwise noted. Ratchet had a point. Nefarious really did have ears everywhere- they spent hours poking through Aphelion pulling out wiretaps one afternoon, and while Clank's software had long been patched by Al to be hackproof beyond reasonable doubt (and unreasonable doubt in three star systems), lines of communication had at least two points, and at least one out of Ratchet and Clank's control.
"Hey, Tal," Clank said casually, stuffing the last piece of the honey roll into his mouth to give himself an excuse to keep his chatter to a minimum.
Tal narrowed her eyes. After that mess on the Phoenix with a very good hologusie, they'd all been on edge, each developing a code system in secret between Ratchet, Clank, Talwyn, and, of all people, Qwark (you never knew when you needed a meatshield, and it was pretty impressive the number of times he was impersonated). Each had a separate code to use with each other, leading to six separate codes between each pair.
"Hey, Ratchet, how many kliks between Sargasso and Igliak?" she asked, eyebrow raised.
Clank looked at Ratchet, as he tried to gesture passing the question off to him. While it ended up looking similar to an amateur Kerchu interpretive dance, Clank understood the sentiment.
"I don't think I know offhand. Hey, pal, what's the distance between Sargasso and Igliak?" Clank asked, flipping around the screen so Ratchet could talk to Tal directly.
"Miss Apogee, are you asking when one or both the planets are in aphelion or perihelion? It would affect calculations if you are looking for accuracy," Ratchet replied, attempting to mimic Clank's speech patterns. The actual intonations were easy; Ratchet's options were limited. But speaking with Clank's vocabulary was an adjustment.
Now, Tal raised an eyebrow almost to the ceiling. "When Igliak is in perihelion, if you don't mind."
"23 million kliks," Ratchet replied, using the location names and orbital information to do a quick mental calculation for the code reply. "And give or take three feet, if you really want to be accurate."
"Thanks, Clank," Tal said calmly, as she smiled and nodded knowingly. With the two of them, especially given the number of times Ratchet messed around with the Biobliterator in the museum, it didn't surprise her that Ratchet was temporarily parading around as a robot. But Clank? How could he even be a Lombax? And why would they pretend around her? The last time Ratchet fought against the museum exhibit and lost, he called her up excitedly to blast sound effects at her with his speakers before the process reverted him to normal (her retaliation with an airhorn and klaxon at 3AM local time was not yet forgotten).
"Hey, any chance I could pop by for a visit?" she asked the duo.
"Sure, why not?" Clank interjected, shrugging, as he flipped the screen back around. "Clank needed a tune up after our recent run in with Nefarious. Figured I'd have a second opinion, so we're at Al's in Meridian."
Ah, Talwyn thought to herself. This explains quite a bit, actually. "Meet me at Ledonna's in the Arts District for lunch then? My treat."
"Yeah, wait, don't you need like, a reservation two years in advance?" Clank asked, almost slipping into his own more formal speech, but quickly catching himself.
"Family friends with the owner."
"Why did you…" Clank glared at Ratchet off screen, and Ratchet couched his words. "Why did you not inform us prior? Surely you knew Ratchet has been wanting to take you there before."
"Well, y'know, maybe he should have asked me directly instead of trying to drop hints," Tal responded slyly. "If he were to say, I dunno, 'Hey, Tal, can I take you on a date?' I might just say yes. But… anyway. I'll see about a 1 o'clock res. Asking them for a table during lunch rush is just rude." She waved with a light smile and ended the communication, and the screen automatically shrunk down and returned to Ratchet's chest, bumping repeatedly against it.
Clank took a finger and rubbed it to his temple. "Ratchet, you need to open your maintenance shutter," he reminded, wearily.
Ratchet cursed at himself internally, before concentrating on the process and letting the commlink back inside.
"We have a few hours, Ratchet. What should we do in the interim?"
"We? Pal, you need to do two things between now and 12:30. One. Put on something nicer than work pants," Ratchet said, sweeping his blocky hand back towards the upended suitcase. "And two, which is probably going to take a few hours, given what I've seen so far, you're going to need to relearn how to walk."
"Oh, come on," Ratchet whined, after the fourth time of Clank moving unsteadily, thankfully catching the edge of the breakfast bar before tumbling to the floor. "My feet are the size of a small hovercar and flat like yours."
"You don't come equipped with weight-bearing sensors."
"That's what my tail is for, tin can! You're just leaving it hanging there when you should be using it to correct your balance. OK, y'know what, sit. We're starting with some basics." Ratchet gently glided down from his perch on the bookshelf, and pulled out one of the kitchenette chairs, noting how weird it was to be looking up at everything that had once been eye level, yet pulling the chair didn't feel like exerting any energy at all. Clank clumsily sat down in the chair, sitting on the offending appendage with a slight yelp. Ratchet closed his eyes and shook his head gently, carefully detangling out his tail. Clank felt a low rumble in his throat before putting a hand over his mouth.
"Did I just… purr?"
Ratchet attempted to smile, and, upon realizing his mouth couldn't physically do that, settled for the equivalent he'd seen Clank do with his eyes. "All right, momentary break here," he said, before popping open the propeller from his antennae and hovered up to Clank's left ear. He reached out, and began scratching gently at the base, just where it met the side of his face. The ear shot up immediately, and Clank felt the purring return. His muscles, which had become quite tense from anticipating falling, begin to uncoil.
"You a bit more chill?" Ratchet asked, seriously, after a few well-placed scritches.
Clank breathed slowly, before blinking and looking down. "I know you are felid, but I didn't even consider you could purr. Or how…"
"Relaxing it is? Guess I just get too stressed out now. Saving the universe ain't exactly a leisure activity. But I figured you're probably still on sensory overload, so I want you to back up a bit. Flip yourself so you're facing the chair back and leave your back free."
Clank shuffled a little, accidentally whipping Ratchet in the face in the process.
"Well, it's a start. Uh, let me see if I remember…"
"Remember?" Clank asked, twisting his head to look at Ratchet on the floor.
"When I was nine, I got beat up pretty badly, and they cracked three vertebrae, here, here, and here," Ratchet said, gently poking at three spots on his tail. "I was the only fuzzy… person… in the orphanage, and the boys used to make fun of me for it, while the girls would chase me around and try to pet me or put a bell on me. One day, I just had enough of trying to be civil, and climbed up the rafters and hissed at people. One of the older boys yanked me down by the tail. That was an interesting hospital visit. I almost died. They gave me painkillers for a Cazar my age and my stomach had to get pumped."
"That's horrible."
"Yeah, well, past is past, and all that junk," Ratchet added quickly, trying to brush it off. "Point I was trying to make was that I had to relearn how to walk again, too, after they took the cast off my tail, and I'm trying to remember what they did for me in physical therapy. Uh, oh, right." Ratchet tapped the tail tip. "Let's start with the basics and see how well you can do 'em. First, just lift up your tail. All the way up, high as it can go, and see how long you can hold it there. I don't think you have my muscle memory, other than instinctual reflex, but you have my body. And I've been running and shooting for how many years now?"
Clank reached out gently and patted Ratchet on the head.
"Oh, for the love'a, I don't need any sympathy," Ratchet protested.
"When I came out of the factory on Quartu, the first thing that occurred was my older brothers trying to terminate me," Clank replied knowingly, as he straightened his back and held his tail aloft like his ass was on fire. Well, calmly on fire. "There is nothing wrong about understanding your past," he added, as he noticed a light twinge in the three spots on his tail Ratchet had pointed out. "Also, now I am aware of a quick means to cool your hot temper when you get upset," he added, pointing at the base of his left ear.
"Don't you dare," Ratchet snapped, as he went rummaging through the cabinet for something.
"It did feel nice," Clank said, as he noticed holding his tail was beginning to strain him. "I'm not sure I can hold this for much longer."
Ratchet stopped his internal timer. "Nah, you're good. Put it down and ninety seconds of rest. And yeah, I know it does, the matron used to give me ear scratches when I was really upset. But then the other kids heard me purr, and, well. Not even Cazars purr apparently. Makes me feel less…"
"Like a sapient?" Clank interjected, swinging a giant foot off the floor. "You should talk to Aphelion. I would not be surprised if she knew more about lombax anatomy. Or Doctor Jenta. If I'd known this bothered you, I would have asked some questions of her on your behalf."
"I guess."
"There is nothing to be ashamed of, Ratchet."
"Yeah…" Ratchet replied, trailing off. "No offense, but I don't even know why I'm worried around you. You leak exhaust fluid all over Aphelion at least once a month." Ratchet let out a droning mechanical hum in lieu of a sigh as he hovered over the silverware drawer.
"You are worried about what Talwyn thinks?"
"I'm worried about what everyone thinks, seeing as, as far as I know, four exceptions, two deceased, there hasn't been a lombax in this entire universe for twenty-five years. But, yeah, Tal in particular."
"I think she would find your snoring cute, at the very least," Clank replied, sticking out his tongue as he wiggled his back to settle into the chair again.
"Oh, great. You knew, too?"
"Even with my audio sensors off, you still shake the entire cockpit," Clank replied dryly.
Ratchet came around with what he'd been looking for in the kitchen- a small spoon- which he used to thwack Clank with in the knee as he passed.
"Hey!" Clank yelled, as he rubbed the offending leg.
"That's for being an asshole."
"I thought you wanted this back the way you left it."
"Some things are worth it, Clank." Ratchet replied, before holding the spoon out flat in his palms. "Anyway. I don't think there's any reason to do the other strength exercises. You just need to learn control. Try knocking this out of my hands with just your tail."
Clank looked at the spoon in Ratchet's hands, and wagged the appendage in anticipation, before taking a calculated swing, smacking Ratchet right in his open mouth, and getting the fat, fuzzy tail tip stuck in his jaw.
"I'm going to pretend you did that on purpose," Ratchet replied, a little taken aback that his voice came forth with the same clarity as before, despite knowing that Clank's speakers were actually in the jaw joints on the sides instead of inside the mouth, more there for the organic's sakes than real function. Ratchet reached up, and carefully teased out the ball of fur lodged in his face; Clank shook it vigorously once free.
"All right, pal, we're not moving on until you get this right," Ratchet stated, before shutting the jaw mechanism completely to prevent future mauling by lombax, and holding out the spoon again.
"Would you… stop… fidgeting?" Ratchet asked, standing on Clank's knees as he attempted to knot a Windsor into Clank's tie. "It's hard enough doing this looking at my neck from the front. There. I'm done, you giant baby."
Clank stood up, and looked at himself in the mirror. He wasn't used to seeing Ratchet in formal wear- either loose, oversized work clothes or bodysuits and armor. The brown vest and tie suited him well, and, like anything the lombax touched, had been modified; the vest doubled as a harness for Clank, the support straps running underneath discreetly with the attach port a part of the back's design.
"Do you have my mat-compressor?" Ratchet asked, tidying up a bit so he wouldn't trip over anything left on the floor. Clank flashed a wrist, showing the green glowing device tied to his watch-band. "Good. Never know when we need firepower, unfortunately. What's in it right now?"
Clank flicked at the device. "Combuster, dopplebanger, three Mr. Zurkons, a few Groovitrons, both our arc lashers, and the Judicator. The remainder of your arsenal is in Aphelion. I feel confident in operating the combuster if needed; I know how to use all of these, of course, but I am concerned with the dexterity needed for operating the arc lasher and the kickback from the Judicator. I can just pass you anything else?"
"Sounds like a plan. I'll go hail down a cab," Ratchet replied, opening up the propeller on his head after unlocking the apartment door. Clank snorted a little. Ratchet was purposely taking every opportunity to use his heli-pak.
"I think I'm overdressed," Clank said, upon seeing Talwyn at the entry in a stiff tank top and loose work pants.
"Like I said, I know the owner," Tal replied. "We've got the private room in the back so I didn't really worry about getting fancy."
Ratchet gently kicked Clank in the shin.
"Uh…" Clank started. " So what is the numeric value of the square root of fish, soda, and eagle? Clank and I were arguing about it on the way over, and I'm pretty sure he's wrong."
Tal raised an eyebrow. The fake math questions setup of code was her secret code between herself and Clank. "It's 438. And, I've been having problems figuring out what it would be for lombax, water, and sun," she countered.
"Oh, that's pretty easy. 387. You don't even need a calculator for that."
"Wow, okay," Talwyn replied. "Yeah, I'm glad I got us the back room. Let's go have something good, okay?"
Five brownie points if you can figure out how the square root code works (there's a hint that makes it possible to understand how it works, but not make it totally solvable since you're missing some info)