Author's note: Takes place roughly in 1994/1995;
Naughty Pipes:
"I don't know about this, Sparkplug." Huffer's grey face was bunched up in a full-fledged fret. "Do you really think this will work?"
"I'm positive," Sparkplug said, patting Huffer's hip the way he'd pat a human's back. "I used a design a lot like this when I was up in Alaska. We made it work and we were using spit and bailing wire. It'll work, I swear."
"Okay." Huffer didn't sound convinced, but he did look apologetic about his doubts. "I'm sorry, Sparkplug, really it's just that I've been under a lot of pressure lately and trying to retrofit the Ark and the volcano into a larger complex is just getting to me I guess." He sighed heavily. "I'm not used to working under these conditions."
Sparkplug grinned, moving back to better look Huffer in the face. "That's why you've got me," he said. "C'mon, call up the plans and I'll show you what I've got in mind."
"Alright," Huffer said, doubtfully.
They'd been studying the plans for a few minutes when the sound of footsteps made Sparkplug look up. A blue minibot stood in the doorway, his red optics bright and shiny. They were the only things about him that were; the rest of him was covered in mud and slush.
"Hey, Pipes!" Sparkplug called. "Spike with you?"
"No sir, Sparkplug," Pipes said. "He met up with Carly and Bumblebee when we got back just now. He said to tell you that they're gonna go get something to eat."
Sparkplug nodded. "That's good, I'll hook up with him later then. The plowing go okay?"
"Yessir!" Pipes said, his optics lighting up. "Kept it slow and steady, like you said to do. It was a lot of fun."
"Fun?" Huffer gave an almost human-sounding sniff. "Pipes, how can running around in freezing cold snow and mud and slush be fun?"
"Well," Pipes said, his optics brightening again in what Sparkplug knew was as close to a grin as a mouthless Autobot could get. "We listened to the radio and Spike and me talked a lot an' I got to honk my horn every time we'd get the signal."
"The signal?" Huffer asked, still sounding dubious about the whole thing.
"Yeah, you know what I mean, right Sparkplug, sir?" Pipes held up one arm as if reaching for something, then pulled down. "That's the signal; when people do that, you blow your horn."
"That it is, Pipes," Sparkplug said, solemnly. "Rule of the road."
Pipes's optics flared again. "Yeah, all in all it was a really nice time," he said.
"I'm sure." Huffer walked over to Pipes. "Look at you!" he scolded. "You're filthy! And you've been gone nearly four hours when you were supposed to be gone two! You were only supposed to be working on the highway from here to the interstate. How did you manage to get covered in that much mud on a highway?"
Sparkplug coughed to cover a chuckle as Pipes's optics took on a faux-innocent oh-dear-did-I? look. "Well," Pipes said. "Trailbreaker and Hound wanted one of the back roads plowed too an' it got kinda muddy back there. Then a couple rangers wanted some help getting the parking lot plowed down by the visitor's center and I was just tryin' to help out Huff."
"I know you were." Huffer let out another exasperated sigh that made him sound so much like a scolding mother that Sparkplug had to fake another coughing fit. "But that deicer you were carrying is a corrosive and that mud could rust your undercarriage if you're not careful. Not to mention you could have slid on the ice and ended up slamming into a tree. Those things look harmless, but they're not!"
"I know, Huff, I know," Pipes took a step forward, reaching out to put a hand on Huffer's shoulder. "But none of that stuff happened, and I was just on my way down to th' refresher to get cleaned up. I only stopped by 'cause I wanted to see if you could help me wash my back."
Sparkplug started to turn back to the plans for the Ark's retrofitting, letting Pipes and Huffer's conversation wash over him. He didn't really think anything of it -- Pipes's design was such that scrubbing himself was downright difficult and besides, Sparkplug had seen enough of the world that communal bathing just wasn't that surprising.
"Pipes, I…I'm busy," Huffer said, and there was something about his voice -- half-irritated, half-enticed -- and the way he shuffled back a half-step from Pipes that brought Sparkplug's head up and around.
Janine. Her name floated back to him, stirred up from the depths of his mind, followed by a memory of their first apartment. It'd been a cramped little one-bedroom flat -- barely enough room for two adults, let alone two adults and a newborn. He'd come home from work at the garage, tired and filthy and she'd been at the sink washing dishes. He'd stepped up behind her, putting his hands on her hips and nuzzling the back of her neck. She'd smelled of Jean Nate and Aquanet and baby powder.
"You're filthy," she'd said, with a laugh in her voice. "Go get cleaned up and I'll have dinner ready when you get out."
"Forget dinner, come join me and we'll get a pizza," he'd said. "Or Chinese, or Martian, whatever. Just come join me."
"Irving, I…I'm busy," she'd said and her tone had been exactly the one that Huffer had used. All right, not exactly; even on the worst day of hay fever season Janine had never sounded that nasal and whiny, but the implication was still there.
"Sparkplug and I are working on the expansion for our headquarters, I can't leave just now." Huffer's voice brought Sparkplug back to the present day. He snuck a glance back at Huffer and Pipes. The two minibots were standing an arm's length apart -- Pipes's arm, to be accurate. Pipes was reaching out again for Huffer when he noticed Sparkplug looking at them.
"Hey, sir?" he asked, hopeful. "Would you mind if me and Huffer left for a little bit? I promise, it wouldn't be for long. I just really need to get cleaned up." There was a mischievous glint in Pipes's optics that was impossible to misread. It took all Sparkplug's willpower not to smirk back.
"Pipes!" Huffer looked as close to mortified as Sparkplug had ever seen. If he hadn't liked Huffer as much as he did, it would almost have been comical. "Pipes, no! You go on and get cleaned up. No! Don't argue with me!" Huffer snapped, then his expression softened. "I need to take care of this first, but we can meet up later, okay? I'll radio you when we're done here."
Pipes nodded his head in a short, fast bobble. "Sure, Huff," he said, reaching out and giving the orange minibot's hand a squeeze before he walked off. "Bye Sparkplug!"
"Warriors," Huffer said with a sigh that stirred Sparkplug's memories again. "I'm sorry, Sparkplug, they're just…why are your eyes leaking?"
XXX
End Note: In the course of writing this fic, I looked up Jean Nate, to make sure I got the spelling right; Mount St. Helens to see what kind of roads lead to the volcano, the Korean War, to figure out how old Sparkplug would have to be to have served in the Korean War (by my figures, he was born in 1932, making him 18 at the time the Korean War began; 38 when Spike was born; 52 in 1984 and 62 at the time this story takes place. Sparkplug's age may vary outside the Dunverse). I also looked up snow plowing. Yes, I am a geek. Yes, this makes Amy laugh at me -- but she says she still loves me so that's ok.