Bobbi had woken exactly one hour before the alarm clock was due to go off. Since then, she had been locked in an intense staring contest with the blinking red square numbers on the screen. The Mystery Machine that was the body of the alarm clock was darkened by the shadows around the room from lack of light, only lit by the red numbers in its middle. The Scooby-Doo head poking up out of the green van with his signature grin looked especially nightmarish and creepy in the dark, surrounded by the red, ominous glow.
The field medic was almost scared of it.
Slowly, the minutes counted down, until it was only a singular minute from going off and blaring it's annoying beeping mantra. Bobbi narrowed her eyes in a cold glare. Ring, she thought, oh please ring. I swear I'll get you this time, damn you.
As if hearing her thoughts, the alarm clock began to blare angrily at its surroundings, as if cursing it all to hell and taunting Bobbi as it did every. Single. Goddamn. Morning.
But this morning would be it's last.
Fueled by rage, Bobbi grabbed the nearest tool from the box she and Tammy shared, and threw it as hard as she could at the blaring minion of Lucifer himself. Everything happened in slow motion. Tammy sat up from her bed across the room, exhausted eyes opening in preparation to save her baby like every other day. The blonde's eyes connected with the heavy piece of metal and plastic flying through the air- and she let out a scream of pure horror.
Bobbi's hand was still raised in a throwing arch as the tool made contact with the alarm clock with a loud "CRACK!"
Metal and plastic parts and pieces flew everywhere, and there was a sudden, abrupt silence.
Until Tammy lunged to the broken clock and wept out her agony, desperately gathering up little pieces and clutching them to her chest. The sobbing blonde dramatically wailed about how her poor baby had never even stood a chance, and didn't seem to notice when Bobbi came over and scooped her undamaged tool up with ease.
Convinced Tammy would get over herself with time, she slipped it back into it's spot and got ready for training, a happy tune playing in her head. Eventually, knowing she had a job to do, Tammy got up whilst sniffling, and got ready as well.
At first, Bobbi was very, very happy at the change of pace. Tammy didn't drag her down the hall to breakfast, or to the guys' room. But after about thirty minutes, it began to make her twitchy. Tammy was slumped over, a dark cloud of depression hanging around her as she shuffled along without her usual energy.
It was as if she had died and left a zombie in her place. The thought made Bobbi shiver.
They arrived at the mess hall, got food, and sat down. Today, Vladimir was missing, and so Bobbi sat with her team- without the overprotective giant glued to her hip. When the guys joined, Tammy didn't greet them. In fact, her head was laid on the table, her face turned towards her tray of food as she picked at it with her fork. She hadn't taken a single bite.
"Morning Tams~" John sang out happily, clutching his precious coffee to his chest,
"Morning…" The normally upbeat blonde mumbled out as she continued to stare at her food and play with it.
John's eyes widened and he paled.
Hurriedly whirling on Bobbi, he leaned in and whispered, "What happened to Tams? This isn't normal. She's not gonna eat my brains, is she?" The redhead whimpered in fear, blue eyes wide.
Bobbi shook her head in answer to his question, frowning and unable to answer what exactly had happened to make Tammy so miserable. Said blonde was continuing to mope in her breakfast.
"This… is disturbing." Evan muttered, brow furrowed as his intelligent eyes watched her from behind his glasses, which he pushed up with his middle finger. Larry shifted uneasily, scooting away from the depressed woman and the waves of pure despair radiating off of her.
Tammy sighed, standing and taking her tray with her. She left the table, moving wordlessly, lifelessly, to the trashcan to dispose of her uneaten food.
"Listen to me Bobbi." John grabbed the mute's upper arms, his face unusually serious, and he leaned in so he could be heard clearly, "Ya' gotta do somethin'. You know what happened, right? I know you do. Please, ya' gotta snap Tams outta her funk! Quickly!" John shook her back and forth suddenly, yelling in a panic, "Are you hearin' me?!"
Larry's hands snapped out and stopped John from shaking the poor brunette to death,
"Easy John! I'm sure she heard you! Deep breaths, don't panic!" John whimpered helplessly but released Bobbi, who blinked in stunned recognition. This was her fault. She had caused this. Steely determination wound itself up her spine and through her chest. Turning on her heel, she suddenly left the group, and her tray, behind in the dust.
Her teammates were rather confused by her sudden departure. Though not by much; Bobbi had a habit of doing such things at the oddest moments.
Bobbi didn't slow down, didn't stop. She needed to find someone with a phone and a laptop. Fast. But who would have one? She only knew a few people on base thanks to her workaholic tendencies.
Mind working furiously, she never noticed her feet carrying her in the direction of the med bay- until she found herself parked in front of those huge, metal sliding doors. Bobbi blinked blankly up at the entrance- until it hit her like a lightning bolt. Of course! Ratchet would have a phone, more then likely, and a laptop. It would make sense.
Hell, she wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if he WAS his own laptop and phone. Damn, sometimes Bobbi had to admit that her subconscious and body moved a lot faster than her mind at times.
But now she would have to suck up her courage and ask him. Taking a deep breath and knowing she had to be at training classes in less then an hour, Bobbi pushed the button on the wall beside the right door. They slid open and she stepped in, her brown eyes scanning the area around her cautiously. It was never a good thing to disturb or startle the resident CMO- even though Bobbi was quickly becoming more and more comfortable around him. Leading her to being able to enter the med bay as she pleased.
However, Bobbi never knew when Ratchet was not going to want her company- though he hadn't expressed such a thing yet- and found herself tense and uncertain.
"Who is it?" A familiar, gruff voice grumbled from farther in. Mouth dry, Bobbi headed towards the voice, making sure her footsteps were somewhat loud so the doctor could hear them. When she got about halfway into the huge room, she spotted him. Wild, unkempt white and red hair poked up, and spilled over the top of a computer, where the man she was searching for was bent over, working at something studiously.
Hearing the footsteps, Ratchet straightened and turned around in curiosity. It evaporated when bright blues met browns.
"Ah, hello Miss Bellmark. Do you need something?" Bobbi really wished he'd stop calling her by her last name, but let it go. She shifted and hesitantly nodded. Ratchet frowned, stepping around his desk and moving closer, "What is it? You don't seem dama- I mean, injured."
Bobbi ignored the slip of the tongue. It wasn't her place to ask questions about their secrets. She was a grunt, a soldier- not an officer. Licking her dry lips, she began to sign with her hands. When she had first become mute, her father had insisted on everyone learning sign language in the family so they could speak to one another and understand what Bobbi was saying. The mute only seemed to use it at home.
It's hard to sign when you're holding a gun or in the middle of a battle.
Luckily, however, Ratchet understood, making it easier to communicate with the grumpy, older man.
Carefully, Bobbi told him what had happened, and what was going on. When she finished, he nodded slowly.
"Alright, but why come here?" Piercing blue eyes focused on her again and she shifted nervously under his gaze before signing out her reasoning, pleading for his help after swallowing her pride.
This was for Tammy.
Ratchet was silent for several moments before an evil, thoughtful smirk worked its way onto his battle scarred, weary face. Why not have a little fun while he was at it? Pick on Bobbi, just a little, and have some R&R?
"Alright. But you owe me. And I will collect my debt. A 'Scooby-Doo' alarm clock, right?"
His words and expression sent a chill down her spine, but there was little Bobbi could do about it. This needed done, especially if she wanted her teammate back, working at full capacity.
She nodded, "And by tomorrow?" Another nod, "Alright. I'll see what I can do. I'll take the amount out of your paycheck." Ratchet waved a hand, dismissing her. Bobbi signed a thank you, smiling gratefully before turning and running off so she wouldn't be late to her training classes. She was already cutting it close as it was.
As she left, Ratchet's smirk grew into a grin. Oh, she had no idea what kind of horrors she had just opened, and it all started with one alarm clock and a flared temper.
For the rest of the day, everyone had to deal with a lifeless, zombie like Tammy who slouched in her seat and did all the drills and work given to her half-heartedly. She didn't perk up, no matter what the team tried or did to attempt to cheer her up or get her head in the game. Tammy was just too upset about her alarm clock.
That night, Bobbi watched as her teammate and friend limply crawled into bed and laid there. The mute sighed heavily, looking over at the simple, plain alarm clock she had borrowed from Evan. It was sleek and black with green blocky numbers. Tammy hadn't even noticed it. Laying down, the tiny woman hoped the new alarm clock would be at the base in the morning. If not, dealing with Tammy would prove more difficult. Not to mention John, who had become increasingly agitated.
When the alarm clock went off in the morning, Bobbi grabbed the nearest tool to her out of reflex- then forcefully let go of the cold metal and plastic in her hand. Grunting silently, she sat up and smacked the alarm silent before sliding out of bed and getting ready.
Tammy drearily sat up, practically fell out of bed, and got ready with mechanical like motions. Bobbi watched her with hidden worry as she strapped her signature army helmet on.
It was strange. This time around, it was Bobbi dragging Tammy to breakfast. A strange phenomena that Bobbi didn't like at all. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Like the universe was out of whack. Especially since the tiny woman was having a very hard time dragging the taller blonde along. Clenching her teeth, Bobbi dug her heels in and put her back into it, managing to pull the other soldier along at a slightly faster pace. But only slightly.
When they finally got to their table with food in hand, Bobbi was panting and sweating. Sitting down heavily, she gulped her water down feverishly to quell the heat and strain she felt. Tammy plopped wordlessly down next to her, but only picked at her food- again. The guys were silent, afraid of what the blonde would do should she be pushed in the wrong way.
Was a storm brewing beneath the surface? Was she close to exploding? They didn't know, and couldn't tell. This had never happened before.
Not even halfway into the meal, another soldier, from a different squad, ran over to them,
"Bobbi Bellmark? Please report to the med bay!" Bobbi was out of her seat and bolting for the door before the soldier could finish. She could not stand the bright and bubbly blonde to be so downtrodden. It just wasn't right. Bobbi wasn't used to it. And she hated things she wasn't used to.
She liked routine. Firm, expected things she could count on.
Practically leaving fire in her wake, the brunette made it to those large doors in record time. Eagerly, she pushed the button to open them and darted in. Ratchet was sitting at his desk, smirking at a medium sized, white box. Bobbi stopped in front of his desk and pointed at it questioningly, asking if that was it in her own silent way. A sense of eagerness hung around her, and she didn't stop to think about how rude her speed was, or how rushed she seemed.
"Yes, that's it." Ratchet nodded, "It arrived a little bit ago. Report tomorrow afternoon for that favor." Bobbi bobbed her head at his words, excited and grateful. She signed a thank you, scooped the box up, and darted back out the door. Ratchet leaned back in his seat thoughtfully as he looked down at the file in his hands.
Such a kind, bright woman, if a tad bit rough around the corners… Then again, couldn't the same be said about him, to some degree? Or at least, along the same lines, in any case.
Bobbi had hid the box under her bed for the day. There wouldn't be time to give it to Tammy until that evening. Her teammates- minus Tammy- gave her strange looks throughout the day as she bounced in her seat excitedly- completely unlike her- and kept looking at the clocks around the base- also unlike her. When the last training session had finally ended, the blonde was suddenly whisked away from the group by the tiny mute, leaving the guys to stand and blink in confusion.
"Is it just me, or are things gettin' weird around here?" John question cautiously. Larry just shrugged and sighed.
Bobbi practically shoved the taller woman through the door into their room, not bothering to be overly gentle. Tammy stumbled,
"Bobbi…? What are you doing?" There was confusion in the curvy blonde's voice as she looked at the tiny field medic in confusion. The smaller woman was never quite so… rough. Bobbi didn't answer. Instead, she reached under her bed, grabbed the box, and shoved it into Tammy's hands proudly, her chest poking out a bit as it swelled.
Bobbi crossed her arms and smirked up at Tammy.
"Is this for me…?" A nod, "Thank you." The blonde opened the box and gapped. There, inside, was an exact replica of her smashed alarm clock. "Bobbi…" Her voice was barely above a whisper. Bobbi shifted nervously in reply, unsure of what to do now that she had given the blonde the present.
She had never exactly done this before.
The mute was suddenly squished against a pair of very large breasts. Her face flushed red, her eyes widened, and then she flailed against the blonde, unable to breathe. While this was far more normal than Tammy's previous behaviors- this was one Bobbi could easily live without.
"...Thank you…" The whisper in Bobbi's ear made her stop, abruptly going limp. "You didn't have to… thank you so much Bobbi!" The tiny woman tried to shrug it off, waving a hand- despite her being pinned against her friend's body- like it was no big deal, but Tammy wouldn't have it.
"You know something?" Bobbi looked up at her in confusion, and Tammy grinned at her as she finally released her, "You're an amazing friend."
Bobbi couldn't explain the warmth in her chest, or the shy happiness that overcame her even if she wanted to. But she found it to be…
Oddly pleasant.
XxX
Oh, she was pissed. If she hadn't broken that STUPID alarm clock, she wouldn't be here right now! But no, she just had to throw that damned hunk of junk at it!
"You missed a spot." Bobbi almost had a conniption right then and there.
The mute had reported the next day to fulfill the favor she owed, as she had promised. She had then been led outside, into the heat, onto the tarmac, to wash the medic's ambulance. Needless to say, she wasn't happy. She was to wash, dry, and wax every inch of the vehicle until it shone. Gently. Any harsh treatment was not allowed, and Ratchet was very quick to put a stop to it.
Which was rather strange, as Bobbi didn't know how the hell he could tell when she was being 'too rough'.
Scowling, she proceeded to get the spot Ratchet had pointed out from where he was leaning against the side of the base, trying to ignore him to the best of her abilities.
So engulfed was she in her rage, the mute didn't notice that when her gently caressing hands would hit a particularly sensitive spot on the ambulance; it and its human counterpart would shudder with enjoyment. It was like having all of the knots in your body worked out, nice and slow like.
Oh yes, Ratchet was very much enjoying the wash and wax Bobbi was giving him, which was the equivalent of a massage to him.
Maybe he could somehow convince her to do this more often? It was doing wonders for Ratchet's stress.
Ah, well, better enjoy it while it lasted, right?