Disclaimer: Don't own Transformers in any way, shape, or form.

Chapter two – edited!

Enjoy!

BTW, I'll be referring to Nightshade as a he until her true gender is revealed. :)

EDIT: Yay for dividers!

00000

A few cycles went by with nothing eventful happening. She had managed to contacted Elita and Mirage once. That was the most riveting thing that happened. No decepticon attacks…no terrorized humans…not even the slightest blip on the radar. Nothing. It was quiet. Too quiet. Red Alert's sentinel programming was about to go on the fritz. So was Nightshade, but for a different reason. She had managed to avoid Ratchet's maintenance check twice, but she was starting to suspect that Ratchet suspected something. The mech always shot her strange, suspicious looks while she was in the room.

Three months later, she received a static filled transmission from Elita.

"Yes ma'am?"

"Nightshade? We'll be arriving in about twelve weeks. You're the only one we've been able to contact, Nightshade. Hope to see you soon!"

"That's good to hear, Elita. I'll see you soon," Nightshade said, grinning at the monitor. Elita waved and the screen winked off. She grinned happily, spinning around on the seat. Nightshade set an alarm on her personal calender, making a note to tell Optimus.

Nightshade smiled as she flopped onto her recharge berth. Maybe when Elita and the other femmes arrived, she would reveal her true gender to the mechs…but it didn't seem to be likely in the near future. She had heard the way mechs talked about the femme half of their species before. She shuddered to think of what they'd do if they found out she was a femme.

00000

Optimus sat in his office, scanning the file on Nightshade. He frowned slightly. This mech was the same age as Bumblebee, but had never really seen a true battle. Maybe fighting wasn't his forte. Perhaps, he would be better somewhere else... He began wracking his memory banks. All of the necessary positions had been filled…and the mech was just drifting from menial task to menial task. Where could he put Nightshade and provide a solid job and decent training?

"Optimus to Red Alert," he said thoughtfully.

"Yes, sir? I'm sending you on an away mission in a few weeks. Do you have a replacement in the med bay?"

"No sir, I do not."

"What about the new recruit…Nightshade?"

"I believe he will be able to help with basic repairs, sir."

"Good. Contact him first thing tomorrow morning and notify him of the change in plans. I don't want a rookie fighting Starscream or Barricade."

"Yes, sir. First thing in the morning."

"Optimus out."

Optimus triumphantly signed the transfer papers. Nightshade now had a stable job.

00000

Nightshade groaned as his com link squealed loudly, startling him awake. Nightshade peered up at the ceiling, wondering what he had done to deserve being awoken at that early of an hour. Finally, the mech on the other end of the line decided to speak. Nightshade huffed angrily.

"Red Alert to Nightshade."

"Nightshade here," he said grumpily.

"Good morning. I am going on an away mission for the next few weeks and Optimus wants you in the medical bay."

"Yes, sir. When do I need to be there, sir?"

"I will be at your quarters in fifteen minutes to escort you. I will also explain policies and procedures."

"Thank you, sir," he said, a mild glare on his face.

"Red Alert out."

Nightshade snarled and got out of bed, grabbing a cube of energon and guzzling it down in one go. True to his word, Red Alert arrived at Nightshade's quarters exactly fifteen minutes later. A soft knock on her door startled him. He wrenched the door open, a scowl on his face.

"Good morning, Nightshade," Red Alert said, bowing his head to hide his smile. Nightshade nodded, barely able to contain the sleepy rev his engine wanted to let out desperately.

Nightshade shut the door and silently followed Red Alert down the hallway. He immediately tuned the taller mech out, focusing on placing one foot in front of the other.

"-and, don't ever, under any circumstance touch any of Ratchet's high grade. He's got a stash of it somewhere in the medical bay. There's the medical kind, but that's clearly marked. Ratchet has it in an unlabeled barrel."

"Understood, sir."

"Oh, and by the way, he's in one of his moods," Red Alert said, standing off to one side, leaving Nightshade standing in front of the doors by himself. Nightshade gulped and steeled himself.

He pushed the large green button by the door and took in a deep breath, ready to take on what lay on the other side of the door. Ratchet was standing in the medical bay, holding a laser in one hand, a harsh look on his features. Sunstreaker lay on an operating table, grinning like a Cheshire cat up at Ratchet.

"Ratchet, old boy, I didn't mean to-"

"Like slaggin' Pit you didn't, Sunstreaker! Get your aft off of that table before I move it for you!"

"It's only a few scratches-"

"You were in here less than two hours ago!"

"Aw, come on, Ratchet-"

"Get the slag out of my medical bay before I weld your aft-"

"Please fix me, Ratchet?"

"Primus help you if you're not out of here in three…"

"Ratchet, I really need-"

"TWO."

"Rat-chet…"

"ONE!"

A loud clang echoed around the room and Sunstreaker jumped from the table, yelping and cradling the back of his head. His head sported a large dent in it, almost as big as Nightshade's little fist. Ratchet was growling and taking in large quantities of air into his filters at an alarming rate. Nightshade winced as he realized how quickly Ratchet's internal temperatures were rising. Sunstreaker yelled a particularly nasty insult in Cybertronian and took off running, darting between Red Alert and Nightshade. Ratchet threw the tool in his hand down on the counter, grumbling quietly.

Nightshade gulped quietly and glanced at Red Alert with wide optics. Red Alert chuckled and patted the younger 'bot on the shoulder reassuringly. Ratchet then noticed the two of them and he did his best to not look murderous.

"Hello Red Alert, Nightshade," he said, bowing his head slightly. Nightshade murmured a shy hello. Red Alert squeezed Ratchet's hand, pounding him on the back. A blow like that would have sent Nightshade halfway across the room, and he made sure to stay well out of range of the mechs. Fidgeting slightly, he stood awkwardly in a corner, trying to become invisible. Primus, I'd give my rifle to have a cloaking device like 'Raj…, he thought quietly. After a few seconds, their hearty chuckles quieted down and Ratchet finally noticed Nightshade standing in the corner.

"Ah, yes, Ratchet. I brought Nightshade to help you while I am away. Perhaps you'll train him in basic repairs?"

Ratchet gave Red Alert an unreadable look. Nightshade cringed and wrapped his arms more tightly around his small frame. A slight frown crossed Red Alert's face plates and Ratchet looked a bit annoyed. Ah, they were using their personal interlinks…

"I promise I'll stay out of your way," he said as quietly as possible, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's fine. I'd be happy to teach you basic repairs. Now, come along Nightshade. We're getting started today," Ratchet said, tearing his semi-glare away from Red Alert..

00000

Ratchet wasn't kidding when he said they were getting started that day. He immediately picked up a laser and began explaining how to use it, when to use it, and when not to use it.

"This is a solid state laser. It's made from an earth component called yttrium. It is used to cut through armor and thick wires. Use this on main supports and struts."

Nightshade nodded to show that he was listening and Ratchet prattled on. Ratchet enjoyed teaching anything to anyone but no one ever cared to hear his lectures. However, having captivated Nightshade, he launched full speed into the inner workings of the Cybertronian body.

"…then this is the main hydraulic piston used to help refine the motor movements of the hands. This cable right here sends power to the digits. This green wire is used to transform the hand into different tools, like a gun or laser, much like mine," Ratchet said, pausing. Nightshade peered closer, nodding and storing that bit of information away.

"As you know, this is the fuel pump. It is what drives us, much like the warp core in our ships. These are our fuel tanks," he said, giving his patient's a good jab, making the mech-turned-guinea-pig squeak in pain. "It refines Earth fuels for our systems. However, in refining this fuel, we are inefficient. We are currently working alongside humans to use hydrogen fusions to fuel ourselves and their electrical needs…"

00000

At the end of the eighteen hour shift, Nightshade staggered into the rec room.

"High grade, please," he murmured, his forehead making a loud thump as it hit the bar. He heard a hearty chuckle from behind him, and a weight sitting in the chair next to him made the floor quiver slightly.

"First day in the med bay," a soft, deep voice asked. Nightshade blearily turned on optic on and nodded.

"What do you think –oh, hello, Optimus. Sir. Sorry about that…," he said, rubbing the back of his head ruefully.

"It's alright. Ratchet was like that in his first medical shift," Optimus said, a small smile on his face plates.

Nightshade slugged back the cube of high grade, not even wincing as the liquid burned his fuel intake lines. Optimus chuckled softly, murmuring something along the lines of, "You drink just like him, too." Nightshade put the cube back on the table. Now that he was energized, he was a bit more amiable.

"So, sir. What did you need?"

"I wanted to ask you a few questions about your family. You know, to get to know you better." There was a kind smile on Optimus's face plates.

"I suppose it's strange that Crosswise never told anyone about me…but I guess it's okay. I never really did anything to make him proud. And you know how high of standards he has. My sister graduated first in her class and received a full scholarship to the university. My father saw that as mediocre. If I barely scraped by in class…I barely passed the exams to become a soldier…" Nightshade said sadly, tracing the rim of the cube with his finger. Back on Cybertron, she was a grade-A actress..she could leak cleaning fluid from her optics on command, she could blush like a school aged femme, and she could pout better than anyone in her class. So naturally, "acting" her way through this wasn't too hard. Keeping her story consistent was.

"I see. How is Day Lily?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen her in so long…I pray that she and my sister were on an escape pod…the hope of them still being alive is the only thing that keeps my spark going…after my father disappeared in battle…" Nightshade gave a quiet sigh.

Optimus nodded and put a hand on Nightshade's shoulder.

"I am terribly sorry to hear of your loss. I pray that your family return to you."

"Thank you, sir," Nightshade said, taking another shot of high grade. Optimus smiled.

"Now, off to recharge with you. Ratchet wants you in the med bay tommorow morning."

"Sure thing, sir."

"Call me Optimus, Nightshade."

"O-okay…Optimus." The name sounded funny on his vocalizers.

00000

So the hours that Nightshade spent in the medical bay turned into days. Days became weeks. During that time, Nightshade built a solid relationship with Ratchet, much like an apprentice to a master. Nightshade picked up on the intricate clockwork that kept their mechanical bodies quickly and efficiently, only asking questions when there was something that he didn't understand. Ratchet was proud of his prized student, who hadn't once made a mistake in the hands on training. Red Alert had come back from his mission and was pleasantly surprised to find Nightshade still within the medical bay (what surprised him the most was the fact that Nightshade willingly volunteered his time!), performing basic repairs on Sunstreaker. It seemed that Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had become regular patients of his during the time Red Alert had been gone on his mission.

Ratchet had even gone so far to allow Nightshade to perform basic maintenance on his own, but under Ratchet's watchful optic. Ratchet randombly quizzed him while he was working, just to see if he would crack under pressure.

"Once you disconnect the fuel pump from the main fuel line, what is the next step in fuel line de-clogging procudure?"

"You connect the main lines to an exterior source and pump in a fuel-solvent suspension, thus keeping the mech alive and clearing out the pumps. However, it is quite painful so the mech must be kept in stasis while this procedure is happening. It is also reccomended to sedate the mech while he is coming back online, to keep his systems calm," Nightshade answered, not even looking up from the large scratch on Sunstreaker's side. Ratchet smiled proudly. Sunstreaker gave him a thumb's up, grinning at him.

"Exemplary answer, Nightshade. Why don't you finish up on Sunstreaker? I'll let you do a routine maintenance check on him," Ratchet said, leaning back on the counter and smiling at Nightshade. Nightshade grinned goofily and finished reapplying the yellow paint to Sunstreaker's side. Nightshade then stood back, waiting for Ratchet to move into place. However, he didn't move.

"I believe the human saying for this is, 'you're running the show now'," Ratchet said, raising one metallic eyebrow. Nightshade grinned at Ratchet and looked down at his patient. Sunstreaker had a mildly panicky look on his face, terrified of the newbie medic.

"Sunstreaker, if you would please sit up," Nightshade said, motioning for the mech to roll back up. He did so. Nightshade began running diagnostic scans on the mech, checking oil pressure and pump efficiency. After a few seconds, Nightshade had Sunstreaker lay back down. After sliding back Sunstreaker's chassis, Nightshade began recording temperatures and spark frequency, keeping careful tabs on the condition of Sunstreaker's spark chamber. It was large and square and the pulsing blue light within was so bright it was almost white.

"Sunstreaker, you are in near perfect condition. However, you have two nearly blown fuses in your lower left leg and a worn cog in near the anterior portion of your fuel tanks. While not crucial to your performance and health, I strongly recommend that you have these replaced within the next two weeks," Nightshade said quietly, sliding Sunstreaker's chassis back into place. Sunstreaker sat up and grinned at Nightshade.

"I think I prefer Nightshade to do my routine maintenance, Ratchet. He's got much gentler hands than you," he said cheekily, winking at Nightshade, who grinned back and gave a short bow. Sunstreaker laughed and clapped him on the back, saying something along the lines of being someone's favorite patient.

Ratchet growled and pointed at the door, telling Sunstreaker to get his aft in motion, lest it be unsavorably removed by Ratchet himself.

00000

I'm sleepy. :)