Chapter 101
-0-Ironhide
He sat on a rock at the beach pulling a datapad from subspace. It was a selection of downloads on sparking and sparklings, a collection that Ratchet facetiously referred to as 'Sparking for Dummies'.
/... ha ha, Ratchet … let's see what this says .../
"Carriers in the last two decaorns become very empathetic and interested in the comings and goings of close family and colleagues."
/... oh oh .../
"Carriers find themselves in the throes of emotional empathy and as a consequence the mechs and femmes in which they come into contact will find a great deal of attention paid to their emotional and spiritual well being as well as intimate aspects of their personal lives."
/... this gets worse and worse .../
"Many of them will find overtures of support in their personal lives, attention to the love lives of friends and family as well as advice given freely. For the well being of the carrier, it should be taken and followed to the letter."
/... slag … Ratchet is frag on wheels when he isn't broody … I better warn everyone .../
"It's often a result of this unusual relatively misunderstood phenomenon that mechs and femmes hook up and begin the happy march to bondedness themselves, all of it brought about by a happy carrier following their programming."
/... the frag you say .../
"The mate of the carrier has a special role to play. They should give unwavering support and attention to the carrier. A happy carrier means a happy sparkling. It's often the case that the creatorusually falters in their role as unwavering help meet to the carrier. This can lead to unhappiness and emotional spikes, lows and highs that can happen in the blink of an optic leaving chaos and tears in their wake, something that the carrier cannot control. Ever."
/... I hope Wheeljack hasn't filled up his equipment room … I'm going to be hiding for a while .../
"It's completely understandable that the erratic behavior of a carrier is met with frowns and harrumphing but it should be understood that a happy carrier needs support and it should be unwavering. Unwavering."
/... slag .../
-0-Ratchet
He stood in their quarters, that part of his broody programming already kicking in. He felt a bit tired. After all, it wasn't long after taking care of Starscream and he'd also begun Operation Frag with the Slagger, IE, make Ironhide putty in his servos. Sitting in the Martian Med Bay with time on his hands, he had downloaded a number of medical tracts for Ironhide who had asked for them. He wanted to know more about the last two decaorns, so Ratchet complied.
Sort of.
He had added a flourish or two among the dry data … actually, he'd edited the slag out of it and given it to Ironhide.
Ironhide was getting too comfortable. His part of this was too easy. Ratchet was doing all the work and would go through all the pain and screaming. He might as well have some of the comfort and Ironhide should have some of the pain and screaming. So his most beloved Only One was somewhere sitting on a rock perhaps reading the 'data' that he'd downloaded. It was amusing, Ratchet thought as he mentally rearranged their quarters this way and that, preparing for the addition of a sparkling in less than twenty days Earth time.
-0-Prime
Optimus Prime gulped as he scanned the datapad that Ironhide had shown him. Since no one on the base had a fragging clue about sparklings, carriers and their own mechanical mechanology they hadn't known that the carrier had such an ordeal. He told Ironhide so.
"What the slag? Ratchet has the ordeal? What about me? I have to recharge with a volcano that can go off at any minute. Where's the 'poor fraggin' Ironhide?'"
Prime smiled slightly, quashing the greater part of his amusement in deference to Ironhide's 'suffering'. "I am sorry, Ironhide. It is just that no one knows what this process is. Ratchet is trailblazing for all of us."
"Right up my aft, too!" Ironhide said.
"Do you want to go on a long assignment for a while?" Prime asked innocently.
A glaring optic met that remark. "And leave Ratchet to run amok alone?"
"Good point," Prime said with a snicker. "It appears that you are going to do something for all of us that the humans mention from time to time."
"What's that?" Ironhide asked, not mollified.
"Take one for the team."
-0-Ironhide grumping down the hall, his sensors spread wide for a moody broody carrier, his most awesome Only One
/... ha ha … take one for the team … ha ha, Prime … wait until you have to do this … I wonder … who would be the carrier? … Prime is so touchy-feely and Prowl is so … so … tight aft about things … I wonder … better not say a word to Ratchet … next thing you know Prime'll be knocked up and broody … I didn't need to think that .../
-0-Rec Room
Ratchet sat in the rec room sipping an energon as he finalized a few reports about the Seekers, all of whom were in abominable condition. A long term program of regeneration and recuperation was already beginning under the supervision of First Aid who was going to be staying on Mars until Starscream stabilized more.
That left him in charge of his own time, no witnesses about, so he considered a remark that Ironhide had made to him about Wheeljack. It had been a 'floater', that is, a remark Ironhide had heard 'Jack say half in the bag and it'd finally floated to the top of his processor from the Pit where it'd been hovering.
"Don't ask me. I'm all alone."
It had stuck in Ratchet's processor and he meant to do something about it. Wheeljack was his closest friend outside of family and he wanted him to be happy. He didn't sound happy. Oh no, he didn't. Therefore he'd have to work two major operations at the same time. Operation Frag with the Slagger would have to run alongside Operation Get Wheeljack a Snugly or as he thought in shorthand, Special Case: Yenta-Claus. For the terminally nerdy, clueless, dorky, or shy, Yenta-Claus would be there working his magic and sowing happiness with every trod of his ped.
What Ratchet didn't know was that part and parcel of his condition was a small, infinitesimally small kernel of truth about carriers being interested in the happiness of others. The odds that his condition, his interest in fragging Ironhide and 'Jack's sorry existence could come together in the same place at the same time probably generated the impossibly small odds of 98%.
Give or take 5%.
After all, we are talking about Ratchet.
Sitting back, considering the roster of available mechs that he might hook his friend up with he got down to the hex nuts and grade 8 bolts of the situation. Wheeljack, inventor, sweet hearted kind mech, tall, colorful and braver than he looked was a very cute soul. He was many things ... scientist and soldier ...
… sailor man and spy!...
/... no more Turner Classic movies for me .../
Who could he leave his best friend with … he found himself ruminating over the fan fiction that someone had shown him thinking he's be scandalized because it had him humping the twins.
At the same time.
If they only knew what a daredevil he'd been before he got yoked to Ironhide they wouldn't have been surprised by how he not only wasn't scandalized but that he had an account on the same site under the pseudonym 'Bend-Over-And-Cough'.
The fan fiction had Wheeljack with Perceptor a lot. Then there were the kamikaze fics with Sunstreaker. For a moment Ratchet felt jealous since he was usually paired with the yellow Lamborghini. And the red one. At the same time. Plug and play. Spikes and valves … valves. WHOO HOO! And that didn't count the number of times he was beating them with hammers when there was no medical reason for it.
He loved fan fiction.
Back to Wheeljack …
This would take care and attention. Yenta-Claus was going to have to do his homework. Juggling two major campaigns wasn't out of Ratchet's experience. He didn't begin one with the intention of losing. Ironhide had to pay for his free ride and insolence while it was clearly obvious that Wheeljack had to get 'faced. That was the beginning and end of everything for the next two weeks.
That and getting the quarters ready for his perfect little sparkling.
And breaking to Ironhide that he would have to help feed it.
Old Big Tit was going to have to learn a lot of things he was going to be doing, Ratchet thought with a grin. Then he winced. Tit was such a stupid word.
Rising to toss his energon cube across the room to land the shot, he walked out with a light step in his peds. Lurking nearby, watching with a gimlet optic, Ironhide tried to parse the moods that had flitted across Ratchet's face. As he did, he came to a singular conclusion.
He didn't have a fraggin' clue.
-0-At the quarters later that evening when Ironhide had no reason for not coming home and no one was around to hide him
"Over there."
"All right." [lift, walk, walk, place]
[Silence]
"No. I think it would look better over there."
"All right." [lift, walk, walk, place]
"Now, move this over there and bring that over here. Let's see how it looks."
"All right." [lift, walk, grab, hoist, stagger, stagger, stagger, place, pick up, walk, walk, walk, place]
[Silence]
"I don't know. What do you think, Ironhide? I'm concerned about flow."
Optics as big as truck tires take in a room with a berth, a table and two chairs, a couch and a television that's mounted to the wall. What is there to think? (Ironhide thinking)
/... I better get this right .../ "I'm concerned about flow, too, Ratchet." /... there … that's safe … I hope .../
Ratchet turned his back to Ironhide so he couldn't see the barely suppressed hilarity on his face. Turning back after gathering himself, he began again.
"I think that should be there, your slag pile over here and this there."
"All right." [lift, walk, walk, yank, *grab*, pick up, trudge, trudge, trudge, place, drop, *put*]
"On second thought ..."
/... oh slag .../
-0-Senior Autobot Staff Meeting, Autobot HQ, Diego Garcia
Ratchet walked in followed by an exhausted Ironhide and nearly everyone in the room stood up looking at Ratchet with concern. Ratchet slowed, then walked to his chair as two mechs jumped up to pull it out. He glanced around then sat, watching as cubes of energon were put before him.
Prime who was watching with a datapad in his hand glanced at the big medico with optics filled with concern. "How are you today, Ratchet?"
"Fine, Optimus," Ratchet replied. "Thank you. Ironhide is the walking wounded today. He moved furniture last night."
Everyone looked at Ironhide who sat in his chair looking back with a glazed expression on his face. He raised a servo and waved his digits slightly.
Prime grinned back and the meeting started with everything being remarked, discussed and the like that was on the agenda. By the time the meeting concluded, Ironhide was recharging, sitting up with his optics seemingly online and everyone was taking bets on when his helm would hit the table.