I wish I had a good excuse for not getting this up yesterday, like Fanfiction wasn't letting me log on again, but I don't. Truth is I put off writing, went rushing around with my mom and sister, and had a really nice dinner with my mom. Oh, and I slept in. I liked that part. But oh well. I also stayed up till two in the morning finishing this, so I think we're even. Hope you love it!

Writing Moonracer was fun, I just hope she doesn't come off as too young. Age wise she's not a youngling, but she obviously hasn't resigned herself to being a boring adult either. I think she's now become one of my favorite femmes. n_n Along with Elita...and Chromia...oh and Arcee of course...you know what? Maybe it would just be easier to list my least favorite ones. Okay, so...oh! There aren't any. Huh, that was easier. ;3

Thanks go to annebellelennox and littledhampir13 for reviewing. Thanks guys! *heart* n_n

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Attack of the Valentines!

(aka: Valentine's Longing)

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Not Mine, Valentine

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A few orbits after Sunny and Sides had come back bragging about how they had plastered some 'cons with Valentines of all things, the Valentine obsession was in full swing. The younglings weren't the only ones that had latched onto the idea and by now most of the adults had passed along some cards as well. Usually it was just for a laugh, but Wheeljack had seen that some of the femmes especially were taking the little gifts more seriously.

The inventor made another adjustment to the machine in front of him almost absentmindedly as he thought. It was strange, he reflected, how organics could put so much faith into a little piece of paper. Just hearing about it, he had thought it rather silly, but seeing the Valentines in action was odd because they actually worked.

"Ow!" Wheeljack yelled as something gave way under his thick fingers. Wheeljack snapped his hands back and froze when he heard the tell tale crack of something about to go wrong on the table in front of him.

The new nitrogen explosive he was working on started hissing as white smoke shot out of the cracked casing. "This is why I do not like dealing with chemicals," Wheeljack grumbled as he saw that there was now a large fracture in the casing he had been tightening up. "They don't follow the same rules as solid materials. They don't even follow their own rules! Fraggin' nitrogen-Ow!" He yelped again and backed away to a safer distance incase the fickle nitrogen decided to take a turn for the explosive.

"Dang it not again…" Wheeljack groaned as he looked to see that his fingertips looked like they had been painted white, borrowing a word he had heard Aria use before. He vented a sigh as he shot a glance at the wall that separated his lab from the medical bay. Or as Wheeljack and every other spark alive called it, Ratchet's Domain.

Wheeljack looked at the wall and then gave his hands a hard look. He really didn't want to go to Ratchet with this, not after the incident yesterday with the, uh, industrial welder, but if it meant he wouldn't lose feeling in his digits for the rest of his existence, or maybe even lose them period…

Wheeljack vented a sigh and shuffled over to the small door set into the wall his lab shared with Ratchet's medical bay. There was a main door, but after all of the 'incidents' that had happened to Wheeljack, Ratchet had had Hoist put in the side door so that he wouldn't have to walk twenty cycles just to see if Wheeljack had blown a hole in his table or his arm this time.

Wheeljack just sighed as the door opened when he approached it, and wondered why everything he touched tended to do things like freeze the ends of his fingers.

The door opened up on a little used back way of the med bay and Wheeljack made his way through the stacks of supplies towards the main center of activity, making sure to keep his hands up so he didn't accidentally break them beyond repair.

The supply hall was dim, the lighting somewhat faulty, but it was only ten yards or so long so the light from the main room sitting just beyond was bright enough to illuminate the way for Wheeljack. The sounds of voices along with the tinkering sounds of several of Ratchet's machines could be heard as the inventor made his way along the hall. As he got closer, the unintelligible voices resolved into the familiar tone of Ratchet.

"Just look at you," he was grumbling at someone, "how'd you end up with all these dents in your arm?"

"No reason…" came the hesitant voice of the young mech Bluestreak.

There was a pause. "You got licked in sparring practice again didn't you?" Ratchet finally asked, lowering his voice somewhat. Most mechs would have been surprised to even think that Ratchet was trying to help the adolescent bot save some face, but Wheeljack was one of the few that knew Ratchet better than that.

"…yes." Came the eventual mutter.

Ratchet sighed and tossed something off to the side. It struck something else with a resounding clang. "Look kid, I know you've got your spark set on becoming a great Autobot warrior and leaping into the fray and taking the fight to the 'cons and all that, but maybe you should just stick to what you're good at." Ratchet told him gruffly.

Wheeljack didn't have to imagine the way Bluestreak slumped dejectedly in his seat as he finally walked into the main room of the med bay. "Getting pummeled." Bluestreak muttered.

Ratchet looked up from the drawer of tools he was rifling through and fixed the oldest youngling with a firm stare, as if he couldn't believe that was what Bluestreak thought he meant. "Your marksmanship." He stated flatly.

Bluestreak only had time to blink at the older medic before Ratchet noticed Wheeljack coming out of the hallway. His stern optic ridges became a solid line above his optics when he saw the way his old friend was carefully holding his hands in front of him.

"And just what," he stated flatly, "did you do to yourself now?"

Wheeljack's optics slid away from Ratchet's accusing stare. "The new nitrogen bombs may be…exploding prematurely." He confessed slowly.

Ratchet glowered at Wheeljack and growled just the slightest bit.

"Nitrogen's just not my thing." Wheeljack tried to defend himself.

Ratchet slowly pointed at the metal bed next to Bluestreak's with a wrench. "Sit. Down."

Wheeljack did so quickly. He shot a look over at the smaller Bluestreak and their optics met as the medic turned to his tool bench. Wheeljack knew they were both thinking the same thing.

"Uh-oh."

They both straightened up when the emergency yellow mech spun around, a slightly bigger wrench in hand to point at them. "And another thing-" He started to shout at the inventor, but a lighthearted giggle cut him off.

"Same old Ratchet, never stops shouting, and at his patients too."

The three mechs turned toward the main door just as it slid shut behind Moonracer. She was one of the younger femmes, about twice as old as Bluestreak, but that wasn't really saying much since he was still a child. She was young for a bot, and full of energy. Her sea green armor was probably cheerier then armor had any business being, but it matched her disposition. She was almost always smiling.

The femme shot the old medic an exasperated look as she walked over to them. "Are you berating poor Wheeljack again Ratchet? Really? Don't you have anything better to d-eep!" She suddenly tripped over a nonexistent bump in the floor and gave a small squeak.

She was also a complete klutz.

With an experienced motion, Ratchet reached out and snagged her by the back of the neck and set the femme smartly back on her feet. He sharply patted her twice on the shoulder and turned back to his tool bench.

Moonracer shook off her almost fall with a little shiver and smiled at the two unfortunate mechs sitting on the steel berths. "Thanks Uncle Ratch'!" She exclaimed.

Ratchet turned slowly and narrowed an optic at her to show just how much he appreciated the nickname.

Where most mechs would have started shaking in their armor, Moonracer just giggled, not even worried about the medic's glare. "Uh-oh, the big bad Hatchet is upset with me…" she trailed off teasingly as she clasped her hands behind her back and made a show of walking over to Bluestreak and Wheeljack. Then she whirled smartly around and plopped down between them. She slung an arm over Bluestreak's shoulders and winked playfully at Wheeljack. Wheeljack suddenly felt a little funny and looked away. He gave his fingers another look. Maybe the nitrogen was starting to affect him.

Moonracer just laughed again and turned back to Ratchet.

"I have something for you…" she said in a sing-song voice.

"Oh yeah?" Ratchet asked as he rifled through his tools some more. He sounded distracted, but Wheeljack could see how he kept the young femme in his peripheral vision even as he picked up a vice and held it up for inspection. "What is it?"

Moonracer's smile was positively sneaky. She gave a fake gasp for effect, but it was ruined when she giggled as she turned to Bluestreak. "He wants to know what it is." She stage-whispered to him like it was some great secret. "Should we tell him?"

"Uh…" Bluestreak muttered as his optics flicked side to side, as if the answer to what the heck Moonracer was talking about was just lying on the floor somewhere. "I guess so?"

She twirled her hand and flicked her wrist dramatically and a white envelope appeared from subspace in her other hand. She winked at Bluestreak before hopping off of the bench.

"Here ya go Ratch'. For my favorite uncle." She told him as she reached out and stuck the envelope right between Ratchet's eyes. He looked up grimly as she leaned back and grinned at him. Only now that it was tacked onto the medic's head did Wheeljack see the little heart – sea green to match her armor – Moonracer had stuck on the flap of the envelope to seal it.

Ratchet growled slightly as he looked up cross-eyed at the envelope. "I'm not your uncle." Ratchet said brusquely as he pulled the thing off his head and handed it back to Moonracer before walking past her with something to tighten up Bluestreak's shoulder joint that had been loosened too much in practice.

Moonracer frowned at him before walking to the other side of the berth Bluestreak was sitting on so that the medic had to face her. "Fake uncle then." She said and held out the envelope to him again.

Ratchet resolutely did not look up at her.

Moonracer sighed and Wheeljack noticed the slight hurt that entered her optics, even if Ratchet didn't see. "Please Ratchet? I made it just for you," she told him, sounding a little embarrassed now. She looked younger then before now as she hunched her shoulders a little.

Wheeljack watched as Ratchet purposefully busied himself with Bluestreak's shoulder. The youngling sat there tensely, hardly daring to move as for the first time in Autobot history, Ratchet was put in a personally uncomfortable position. Even after that, the boy was too afraid to tell his friends of this miracle just at the thought of what Ratchet might do to him if he ever did.

After a long moment, Ratchet reached out and snatched the thing out of her hand.

Moonracer jumped up and down, clapping gleefully. "Yay!" She squeaked like a little femmeling. Wheeljack found himself wanting to shake his head at her. He couldn't tell if she did it on purpose, but it always seemed like she was trying to make bots smile. He found it endearing.

"What is it?" Bluestreak asked, sitting easier now that he knew Ratchet wasn't about to explode in his near vicinity.

Moonracer stopped her bouncing and rolled her blue optics at the young mech. "It's a Valentine silly youngling. Everyone on base is giving them to their friends and things."

Wheeljack nodded. Even he had gotten one. It was sitting on a shelf in his lab next to his plans for an automatic catapult machine that would build machines that would build machines that would build catapults. Although it was only from Skids and Mudflap, and it only thanked him for not blowing them all to the Matrix and back, so he didn't think it should count.

Bluestreak's optics went wide for a moment. "Wow, I bet Aria's got lots and lots of them." He mumbled, probably thinking he should get one for her too.

Moonracer's optic ridges furrowed over her clear optics. "Actually, I don't thinks she's gotten any yet. Everyone's been too busy with everybody else."

Bluestreak stared at her in horror. "You mean you all forgot about her?" He demanded, scandalized.

"Eh he he," Moonracer laughed nervously, "not anymore. I'll make one for her as soon as I get back. And anyway, you'll like yours Ratchet, I know you will. You really are my favorite fake uncle." Moonracer said, jumping excitedly again. Then her foot slipped and she nearly went sliding to the floor with a startled yelp.

Wheeljack caught her this time, stopping her fall right before her head hit the floor.

For a cycle, Moonracer stared up at Wheeljack, almost as if she hadn't noticed him before.

"Whew," Moonracer said a moment later, aiming for relief, "that was close, thanks, em, Jack!" She stuttered, almost like she had forgotten his name.

Wheeljack tried to say something – anything! – but all that would come to his mind was a little, pained, "ow."

Moonracer let go of his arm and fell the last few feet to the floor with an, "oomph!"

"Aw, poor Jackie," Moonracer cooed when she saw his white fingers, "what are you waiting around for Ratchet? Get crackin'! What does Optimus pay you for if you don't fix up self destructive mechs like Jackie here?" She asked with a pitying glace at the inventor.

Ratchet frowned at her. "Optimus doesn't pay me anything." He told her sternly.

"Oh, well that explains everything then." Moonracer said, and then quickly ducked with a grin and a mad little giggle as one of Ratchet's wrenches flew over her head.

"Open up your Valentine soon Ratch'! And consider it a thank you for the new armor! I love the color!" Moonracer yelled as she sped towards the door.

"I thought you'd hate it." Ratchet said as if that's what he had hoped for.

Moonracer winked at him as she walked backwards towards the door. "But you secretly knew I'd love it. Bye Blue! Bye Jackie! Hope you both feel better! Later Ratch'!"

Then with a flurry of giggling, Moonracer darted out the door.

There was a moment of silence as the mechs tried to readjust to the idea of peace and quiet.

"Sooo…" Wheeljack said as Ratchet went back to adjusting Bluestreak's arm, shaking his head as he did so, "what's it say?"

"Yeah, read it Ratchet," Bluestreak piped up.

Ratchet vented an exasperated sigh, but in the end picked up Moonracer's Valentine and peeled off the little sea green heart taped to the flap of the envelope. He opened it up and pulled out a messily drawn, handmade card.

"'Dear Ratchet,'" he read it out loud, "'just because you're not really my uncle, doesn't mean I can't luv you like one. Signed your (fake) niece, Moonracer'. That strange femmeling," he murmured as he put down his card and lifted Bluestreak's arm experimentally.

"That's…" Wheeljack tried to think of an appropriate word for what that was, "…sweet?"

"If you say so," the old medic grumbled, "Now how's that feel? Better?" He asked the youngling.

Bluestreak nodded his head. "Yes," he mumbled thoughtfully, "just fine. Can I go now? I've got to collect some stuff for Aria."

The medic narrowed his optics at the youngling then nodded sharply. "Alright, but remember to keep your guard up the next time you get in a fight and you might not have to come in here every few orbits. Deal?" He asked the youngling.

But it was almost pointless. Bluestreak was at the door already. "Right Ratchet, bye!" He called as he ran out the door.

Wheeljack waved slightly at the disappearing youngling and then flinched when his fingers twinged. Ratchet turned his disapproving stare on him and propped his hands on his hips as he vented a sigh. "And now for you." He said under his breath as he threw the tool he had been using back into the still open drawer. He gave the Valentine another glance before carefully setting it on the counter.

"I don't know why she gives me these sorts of things." He muttered as he went about searching for something else. "It's not like she owes me anything. I only rebuilt her that one time," he held up a finger emphatically, "and ever since then she comes around here squeaking and falling and calling me Uncle Ratch'." He said with another shake of his head, but Wheeljack didn't think he was complaining exactly.

"Maybe she's just trying to thank you." The inventor pointed out.

Ratchet grunted as he peered at the labels on his cabinet. "Well she's got a strange way of doing it. Why not just say 'thanks' and get it over with?" He asked over his shoulder as he found the right door.

Wheeljack shrugged a bit. "It makes perfect sense to me." He mumbled.

"Well then she can pop up and bug you all orbit long. And a right perfect pair you'll be, her always falling over her own feet and you incessantly trying to blow the both of you up." Ratchet said, pulling out a welder and inspecting it.

Wheeljack sincerely hoped he wasn't planning on using that to thaw out his fingers.

"I mean really," the medic continued a moment later as he, thankfully, put the welder away and pointed at Moonracer's Valentine's card, "what am I supposed to do with that thing?"

Wheeljack looked over at the card the sweet femme had made just for Ratchet and a little pang of jealousy pulled at his spark. Ratchet was luckier then he would ever admit. Moonracer didn't go around making things for just anybody.

"I'll take it," the inventor offered offhandedly, "if you really don't want it."

Ratchet stopped his searching long enough to fix an irritated glare on his old friend. "No." He said simply.

Wheeljack sat there somewhat sulkily. He hadn't really thought it would work.

But then a moment later Ratchet straightened up from the cabinet he had been looking in and gave Wheeljack a grin that promised more trouble then the inventor felt he was up for. "You know what?" the medic asked deviously, "You can have the little trinket, if-" he held up a finger before Wheeljack could wonder just what exactly was going on, "you pick it up."

Wheeljack looked down at his frozen fingers and then back up at Ratchet with a flat look.

"You're not funny."

Ratchet chuckled deviously and went back to finding something to thaw out his younger friend's fingers. "I thought it was pretty good." He mumbled.

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A few cycles later, Wheeljack could feel most of his fingers again and was on his way back to his lab to try and figure out just what had gone wrong this time with his new invention.

"Maybe the shell casing's just too thin," he mused to himself as he retraced his steps down the hallway, "or maybe the liquid nitrogen is just under too much pressure to begin with…"

His verbal thoughts trailed off when he reached the side door that led back to his lab. He stopped and blinked when he was there was a small envelope stuck to the surface of his door.

Curious, and just a little excited, Wheeljack carefully reached out and gently pulled the envelope off of the door. He looked around to see who had left it, but he was alone in the semi-lit hall.

Intrigued, Wheeljack ran a finger along the top of the envelope, tearing the paper to reveal another piece of paper. He briefly thought on the redundancy of this as he pulled it out, but stopped once he saw what was glued on the cover.

A large cut out of a deep red heart was there, standing out sharply against the white of the paper.

"It's a Valentine," Wheeljack realized, a little late, as he opened up the card to see who would send him a Valentine besides Skids and Mudflap.

"'To my favorite mech,'" he read softly to himself, "'My love is like organic cabbage, but I'll divide it into two, the leaves I give to Uncle Ratch', but my spark I give you. XOXO, your secret admirer, Luna.'"

Wheeljack reread the little poem inscribed inside again, and wondered who it was. He didn't know what a 'Luna' was, but given the organic reference he thought it might be an Earth term. He'd have to ask Aria about it later.

"I wonder…" Wheeljack thought slowly, barely daring to think it, even in his own head, "Could she have…?"

He looked around again, but didn't see anybody. But then when he took another look at the card, he noticed that that there was a little sea green heart taped across the flap of the envelope.

XD Aw! It's so cute I could bust! And I found that little poem (organic modifications not included) when I googled 'little Valentine's poem'. I thought it fit, uh, 'Luna' perfectly. Now, tomorrow- I mean, later today, look for more of Jazz's antics, Prowl's frustrations with Valentines, and then...the mysterious Valentine theif! Gasp!