Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but Nightshade.

Okay, let's get some official business out of the way. I've had a few people ask me questions, therefore I shall answer.

1. Nightshade and Ratchet have not "done the nasty". They won't be doing so for a while.

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2. Their sparks are compatible. That being said, they will eventually bond. Exactly when, I won't say.

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3. Ratchet didn't mark her literally. I meant mark like to tell other guys that she was not available…cos…you know…he's going after her?

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4. Yes, Ratchet is a possessive mech. It's in his nature. (You know, 'his' med bay?)

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5. I never expected this many reviews. (whistles). I hope I've answered a few questions that y'all may have had. :P

Alright. To the story!

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"Shhh, Moon Racer! It's getting good!"

"Mirage, stop squishing me then!" She giggled softly as he brushed up against her again.

"Well, if you'd stop squirming when I'm trying to listen-"

"Shh!"

"You're tickling me! Primus! STOP IT!"

Mirage had brushed his hand along her side, making the femme squeal and jump away from his fingers.

"Stop it," she hissed, batting his hands away.

"Stop what?" he asked, grinning down at her. He began running his fingertips lightly up her sides, making the femme gasp and squeak. She writhed quietly, trying to get away before her giggles gave them away. He wouldn't let go and only increased the intensity of the tickles.

"Are we going to finish listening or not?" he asked suddenly, his fingers gone from her body.

"What?"

His voice was serious, but there was still a mischievous glint in his optic.

"Are we going to finish listening or what?"

"Uhm, sure," she said warily, trying to keep as far away from the mech as possible. Alas, it was futile, because no matter where she tried to move, he somehow managed to find a way for his hands to always end up in the hollow of her waist, just above the swell of her hip.

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"Excuse me? What makes you think that I am some sort of object to be 'claimed'? I'm not anyone's claim, Ratchet, and you'd do well to remember that," Nightshade snapped, planting both hands on his chest and shoving firmly. Ratchet did not budge. He shot her an amused look.

"You're mine. You'd be wise not to forget that," Ratchet murmured softly, ignoring her spluttering.

"I am not 'yours', Ratchet! What even makes you think that I'd even consider taking you as my mate," she hissed, her optics blazing. He didn't respond. But then he wrapped his arms around her waist, dragging her close…and she felt a connection with him…her spark was singing at being so close to him –it just felt so right to be in his arms-

"I'm guessing by the look on your face that you probably feel our connection," he murmured softly, one hand making its way up her spinal relay. She nodded mutely. Now she knew what it was like to be part of another being, though for only a fraction of a second.

"You are my destined mate, Nightshade, and I do not appreciate you trying to make me jealous."

Once she had gathered her wits about her, she started to frown.

"Being with me is not your right, Ratchet. How did you say? 'You'd be wise not to forget that'. You're going to have to work for the honor of being my mate," she hissed, jabbing a finger into his chest. He was momentarily surprised, but didn't back down.

"If that's what you want," he said softly, his voice taking on a serious quality. Nightshade nodded, crossing her arms uncomfortably.

"Do you accept that we are to be bonded…eventually," he asked, once she made no move to speak…or escape.

"Yes, I do," she responded, dropping her arms to her sides and looking up at the grouchy medic, who suddenly, wasn't as grouchy. As the customary frown left his face, he didn't look as old as he was before. He looked…normal.

"Don't think you can parade me around, Ratchet, because I will kick your aft six ways from Sunday-"she started.

She was interrupted by Ratchet's lips on hers, silencing her effectively. Nightshade gasped softly against his lips, and he took advantage of that and slipped his glossa into her mouth. His hand started trailing up her leg, brushing the silk and tracing the patterns the crystals made. Nightshade responded by wrapping her arms around the medic's neck. He lowered his head so she wouldn't have to stand on tiptoe and deepened the kiss, massaging her glossa with his, mapping out every contour of her mouth. Then he placed a chaste kiss on her lips and moved down to her neck, nipping softly, and gently nudging her head to one side for easier access.

Nightshade let out a soft breathy moan as Ratchet's mouth found the sensitive spot at the base of her throat. His glossa dipped into the seam in her armor there, gently teasing the wires that lay below. She clutched his shoulders, her knees almost giving out. He gave out a soft chuckle as wrapped one arm low around her back, supporting her. She tugged his head down for another kiss. This time she wasn't as shy and started nibbling on his lower lip. He responded by using his fingers to map out the smooth curve of her back. Nightshade's hands began exploring the seams in his chest armor, pinching a few wires, which earned her a low, throaty moan from the medic.

Ratchet's hands drifted lower, brushing aside the silk that covered her leg. He began rubbing her hip joint softly, pushing a knee between her legs. Nightshade felt like her spark was going to explode out of her chest when he brushed against her. Both of his hands started untying the bell and coin belt around her hips. With a soft tinkling noise, the belt hit the ground. The noise jarred her from her foggy, lust-filled daze.

"Ratchet, stop."

"Hunh?" He mumbled, biting her neck gently.

"Stop."

He complied, backing away a few inches.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, you didn't hurt me…it's just…a bit soon for me."

He backed off, although he did so with a curious look on his face.

"Ah…I've…never…" She sheepishly rubbed the back of her head. It really wasn't that she hadn't tried…but…mechs hadn't been interested in a youngling like her…well. At least she was of age, now.

"Oh…oh. I…see. I'm very sorry, Nightshade. You should have said something. I didn't want to rush you into anything…now I feel like I've taken advantage of you, I'm so sorry, Nightshade, will you forgive me?" He was babbling, and he knew it.

"Ratchet, it's okay. Just…let's take it slow. Let me get used to you and we can…continue later on," she said, stroking the side of his face gently. He nodded and gathered her in his arms, holding her close. She hesitated, but sank into his warm embrace, relishing in the fact that his spark was beating for her and her only.

Some time later, he nudged her gently.

"We should be going. Mirage and Red Alert must be worried," he said, leaning down for another quick kiss. She moaned softly and pulled away, her intake filters hitching as his fingers found a one spot at the base of her spinal relays. He smirked and filed this little tidbit of information away.

"One more thing. When are we going to announce this to the base?" he asked quietly, a slight twinge of hope at the end of his voice.

"How about…right now?" she asked, smirking mischievously at him. He grinned back at her. Ratchet could feel his spark swell almost to bursting. He was so happy… and he was forgetting something important.

"Nightshade? We're forgetting something," he said quietly, rubbing the side of his head.

"Oh. OH. The little scorpion creature," she said, turning. The creature was completely out of stasis and watching curiously. It warbled pitifully, cringing as Ratchet approached.

"He's nothing without Blackout," Ratchet murmured softly, reaching his hand out to the scorpion.

"What is he?"

"He's a symbiote. He was partnered to a mech named Blackout-"

At the mention of his old master's name, the scorpion looked up, chirping hopefully.

"He's gone, Scorponok. He was taken out during the battle."

The creature went limp and settled onto its stomach. Its pincers settled onto the table quietly. The creature let out an electronic whimper. Nightshade let out a soft 'aww' and went closer. Ratchet's arm shot out, effectively stopping her from interacting with the scorpion.

"We don't know if he's still dangerous or not," Ratchet warned. Nightshade clucked unhappily, ducked under his arm and approached carefully. The creature backed away.

"I won't hurt you, Scorponok. Please come here so I can see to your injuries," she said quietly, spreading her hands palm up out in front of the scorpion. It hesitated and edged closer to the femme and chirruped softly. He finally got close enough for Nightshade to lay a hand on him.

"I'm going to give you a sedative, okay? You'll be in stasis for a few hours," she said quietly, picking up the syringe. Scorponok shook as her hand approached. Nightshade sighed softly. How could such an ugly creature be so...cute? Scorponok stiffened when the syringe was inserted into one of his energon lines, but soon went limp, his little red optics winking off. Ratchet strapped Scorponok down onto the table and wired his pincers shut. Nightshade uploaded a message telling the scorpion not to worry, that he was restrained for safety, and that she would be back in a few hours.

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Before they went back to the party, Nightshade retrieved her belt and tied it on, although a bit crookedly. Once there, Ratchet said, "I think Chromia wants to speak with you. She's waving at you."

"Oh, I see her now."

"Do you want me to walk you over there?"

"Sure thing," Nightshade said, smiling at her soon-to-be lover. He placed his hand on her lower back, gently guiding her to her friends. She smiled shyly up at him and he excused himself after greeting the other ladies…and stealing a kiss. What a perfect gentle-mech. Nightshade sat down beside her friends. Maggie and Mikaela grinned up at her. Maggie shot her a thumbs up, swaying slightly where she sat.

"What?"

"So, where'd you disappear off to?"

"Did you two kiss and make up?"

"We've decided to…how do you say…date."

Elita squealed happily. Ratchet needed some love, too. Just because he was grumpy in the med bay didn't mean that he was always grumpy. Being with a femme would soften his rough edges…

"Elita?"

"Yes?"

"You've got that look on your face."

"What look?"

"The look you always get when you're plotting something devious."

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Oh noes! What is Elita planning? And…what will happen between our fave medic and Nightshade? And what's this I hear about Mirage and Moon Racer, getting touchy-feely in the hallway?!

My head hurts. :(