I am sooooooooooo sorry for the wait! What ever I said about trusty laptop in other chapters, I take it back! It broke down! I was typing up this chapter, and it just turned its self off, I hadn't saved any thing TT sniff
Any way enough about my misfortunes.
So, a lot of people were scratching their heads at the whole Sides/Hide pairing, but I was feeling experimental the other night and decided to give it a go XD Anyway this chapter contains fluff between characters, nothing adult rated.
It had been two days since the accident and things weren't going that bad. Beside from the odd argument and screaming match between Sideswipe and Sunstreaker things were fine. Today, however, the twins had started bickering early in the morning, before parole even started. Ratchet had known the fighting would soon escalate but didn't act on it.
His hypothesis proved correct when the twins had come back two hours early dented and scraped. They had started wrestling, nothing serious, but they 'apparently' didn't see the giant cliff they were about to topple down.
Thus kicked off Ratchets foul mood.
When Ratchet was in a bad mood, it meant to duck and cover. Poor First Aid was still on shift so she sat cowering shyly in the corner as things flew by her head. Mumbling about going to her 'happy place', she watched as the clock on the wall counted down ever so slowly until her shift was over.
The clock struck three PM, resulting in the protector bot jumping to her feet and bolting for the nearest exit.
Ratchet just shook his head and looked around at the mess his tantrum had caused, as the door behind him swished open. It wasn't the main door, but the door to Wheeljacks lab.
"Hey, Ratchet… uh, Don't be mad!" Wheeljack winced as the medic turned around and glared acidly at her. "I was trying to find something to turn us back but… so far, nothing."
Ratchet couldn't stay angry for long, the engineer had been locked up in her room for the last two days trying to find a cure. "Are you hurt?"
"Well… yeah." she sighed and sat on the berth. The femme tilted her head up to the mech, revealing the energon oozing from a deep gash in her for head and seeping down to mix with a disturbingly dangerous green coloured liquid. It dribbled down under her face mask and dripped out of the bottom onto her chest plate. By the smears it was quite obvious the femme had tried to wipe it off. Ratchet sighed, that meant he'd have to examine her hand as well.
"What is that?" He asked pointing to the thick chemical.
Wheeljack thought for a moment, "Oh that… well, the thing is…I don't really know, but it stings! So can you hurry up and get it off me?"
"Ok, ok, retract your mask and I'll get to work." The tall femme looked around shyly as the CMO sterilised his hands and grabbed a few cloths before moving back.
"It's ok Wheeljack, I've seen it before." he stated warmly, knowing how sensitive the inventor was about her appearance. He waited patiently as the mask hissed, split down the middle and recoiled back into her helm.
Ratchet got straight to work, wiping the goo off her delicate features before dipping the cloth into and around the deep scar that ran from the top of her left cheek, crossed over her lips and ended on the bottom of her left jaw line. The result of a decepticon raid in her home town. Most of the mech and femmes on base just thought it was because she blew up her face but it wasn't (surprisingly enough). She had been slashed across the face by a sword bearing con. The femme (or mech beck in those days) had tried to save her family, but was over powered, then left for dead.
Ever since then she had been ashamed of her scare, feeling that it showed how weak she was.
Wheeljack just watched the medics facial features as he concentrated on getting the slimy liquid off her face.
After washing it down with a wet cloth, Ratchet got to work on the gash in her forehead.
"Alright, just lay back on the berth." he instructed, disposing the soiled rag and picking up another.
Placing his fingers gently underneath the engineers chin, the medic tilted her head back so he could get a better view of the wound under her protruding helm.
Wheeljack enjoyed the fact that Ratchet showed his rarer and more gentle self around her. Being in the med with her friend in comparison to spending two days in her lab was nice to say the least. She winced as he began wiping her shattered forehead. The med bot threw a second rag in the disposal unit and reached over the femme to grab another. Being friends for most of each others lives made it easy and relaxing to be around each other, so instead of walking around the table he just pushed his chest against her helm and stretched his fingers out trapping the small cloth between them.
It was second nature to the medic. If only he knew what his close proximity was doing to the scientist. Her spark gave an almighty jump in its casing and her internal fans kicked in, attempting to cool her now racing systems.
As he straightened with the cloth in hand, the inventor calmed down. She sat thinking for a moment or two before naïvely passing it off as her body reacting to the chemical.
That is until the medic ran his finger down her chest to where the mixture of mech fluid and goop stopped.
A loud gasp escaped as her spark lurched almost painfully against its chamber, strong enough to actually push her chest up to meet the startled CMO's hand.
"What the frag?!" The inventor shouted, sitting bolt upright and clutching her chest plate.
Ratchet nervously glanced from her face to her chest before reaching out tentatively and unsurely. He hesitated for a brief moment before touching her chest plate again.
This time the confused femme let out a harsh cry.
"Ratch…stop." she panted exhaustedly.
Ignoring her completely the medic gained a thoughtful look and touched her again.
Wheeljack shrieked and jumped off the table, "Stop it!" She shouted at him, annoyed that he ignored her.
"Ok, I'm sorry, get back on the berth and we'll finish up." he smirked a slight twinkle of mischief in his optics.
The femme slowly inched back over, keeping her optics narrowed as she clambered back onto the large table.
"Well, I don't see how I'm going to clean your chest, seeing as you almost overload every time I touch you there." At that the scientist flared red and the medic burst out laughing, clutching his mid section.
After a while he realised that the femme had yet to shout or attack him. He looked over to her and the laughter sputtered and died in his throat.
The small femme had her head bowed whilst sobbing silently into the back of her hand.
"Primus 'Jack," He started walking over to her but she got up and grabbed a cloth, intending to walk out and clean herself.
"Just wait a sec," he reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder before turning her around.
"Leave me alone you old perv!" she shouted ducking out of his grip.
He looked at her in puzzlement, the bot hadn't meant to upset her. Grabbing her by the wrists he looked at her questioningly.
"You just don't get it do you?!" she shouted pushing his chest in an attempt to free herself, "I've been locked up in that primus forsaken lab for two whole days! Everybody on base is blaming me and harassing me. Now I'm standing here with chemical burning into me and you have the nerve to laugh?!" she gave an almighty shove and wrenched herself from his grip.
"I'm sorry 'Jack! Come on, I was only pulling your crank shaft." he stated trying in vain to stop her from leaving.
"Are you going to help me or not?" she asked angrily, walking back to the berth.
The mech followed her and pried the rag out of her clenched fist, "Of coarse."
He used a finger to brush away the drying washer fluid before patching up her forehead. The awkward silence stretched on and on until the patch job was finished. Ratchet suddenly became aware of how close they were.
Something in Wheeljacks abdomen clenched and her pump raced as he lowered his face plate until it was almost touching hers.
"Ratchet!" A voice shrieked and the medic jumped away from the femme like he was struck by lightning.
Red Alert flew into the med bay like the hounds of hell were after her, in a way they were as the twins barrelled through the doors, paint ball guns in hand. They skittered to a halt
"Ratch have you seen…" The yellow twin paused and looked from the annoyed medic to the flustered Wheeljack on the table. Red Alert took the chance to sneak out behind them.
As if a light bulb flickered on in the darkness both their face plates lit up.
"Uh… Sides, lets go do that very important thing we had to do."
"Yes that, uh… very important thing…"
As the doors slid shut behind them, Ratchet tuned to look at the femme over his shoulder.
"I'm sorry 'Jack, I didn't mean for that to happen." He spoke hesitantly and made his way back over to her.
"Yeah, that's fine." The femme sighed squelching the hurt and disappointed feeling in her spark.
I know it's a little short but I promise the next one will be longer!