Time had a way of dragging on way too slowly. Ratchet has been reviewing files on his datapad for what seemed like an eternity. Chart notes differed from eye-catching stories, one contained excitement and fun, whereas the other contained facts illustrating a detailed event. However keeping proper medical charts was almost as important as the care itself.

Sadly, charting was boring. And dull. Especially when it's the last hour of his shift before a weekend leave. And to think it only took his lover two weeks to convince him to take a vacation. Stepping back from work was challenging: the medic worried about the functioning of the med bay in his absence. Were First Aid's skills doubted? Slag no! The other medic was excellent at his job, hand-picked to take over as Chief Medical Officer once Ratchet stepped down.

Nonetheless the worry was still there.

Optics glanced at the clock for the third time. Only two minutes passed. "Oh, what's the bother." Saving the document, the tired mech leaned back, dreaming of the weekend adventure instead.

Aside from any medical emergencies, Ratchet would not miss this makeup date! First Aid assured him everything would be fine. Despite his colleague's optimism, the doctor feared that a seriously injured mech would break through the door any second and ruin his plans.

Thankfully, nothing exciting happened throughout the day, hence time was going slow.

Reflecting back, the exception to this was his packed lunch. Since that one night with filled tasty food and belly rubs, Drift took it upon himself to ensure his tanks never suffered a bland meal again. Nestled in his bigger lunchbox were exciting home-cooked meals to be considered a mini-buffet. The main dishes consisted of cyber-fish, coal steaks, and robo-chicken, complete with complimenting sides.

Of course, plenty of snacks such as ener-nuts, crystal fruits, and other finger foods were provided. Everything came in such large portions! Ratchet guessed this was to stave off the munchies between patients.

The desserts were fancied the most. Rich, decadent cakes were plentiful and he devoured them first. In fact, the unhealthy snacks always disappeared while some of the healthier treats returned. Drift always lectured on the importance of balanced diets, but the CMO brushed him off.

With time, though, Ratchet discovered offering up any leftovers to his coworkers was less stressful. Why? Drift tended to pout when food did not end up in his belly, and meals being too large was no excuse. Despite voiced complaints, the swordsmech claimed working hard meant eating well.

As for tummies, his was no longer flat, sporting more of, what his lover called, 'a starter belly.' While not large and overstuffed like that one night, his midsection remained squishy and puffed over his waist. Miniature love handles gathered at his sides. The doctor didn't object to being chubby; he just needed the ability to perform his job. Moving around his med bay and fitting through doors was a must.

Ratchet's initial fears of awkward glances and harsh words never came. Well, Aid did glance at his paunch at first, but whether it was from the acquired belly or the remnants of a hickey was unknown. Chats about the meals arose, but only because his assistant hoped for handouts. And

who could blame him? There was a distinct difference in taste between the food served by Drift and that of the general canteen.

All in all, the past few weeks went smoothly. Work provided occasional stressful days, but returning to his habsuit to see Drift was comforting. Even if both mechs worked late, they made time for each other, if only to face-time before recharging. Naturally, it didn't take long for each to prefer sharing their berth. And that was much appreciated.

So much time passed since Ratchet shared a berth that he nearly forgot what snuggling up to another warm frame felt like. Having arms wrapped around him with fingers idly messaging at his belly sure beat cuddling a pillow. Feeling soft kisses flit across his frame was soothing and hearing engines purring lulled him into recharge. Had he ever felt more rested before this?

"It's the final countdown, eh?" First Aid sat down, interrupting Ratchet's reverie.

"Ah… yeah." Yanked from his daydream, the CMO removed his servo from playing with his belly chub, a newly acquired habit. During slow parts of the day, his hand would travel down to gently knead at the soft rolls like dough. Drift ogled when catching this action, but Ratchet did not wish to know his thoughts.

"So, you know what Drift has planned for you?" Aid asked.

"All he told me was to prepare for an enlightening experience…." Ratchet couldn't help but roll his optics. "Now, what that means? I got no clue."

"Knowing Drift, it probably involves those power crystals," The younger medic chuckled. "And what's the purpose of those candles?"

"First: they are not power crystals," Ratchet corrected in jest. "They are healing crystals. Second: those candles just release relaxing fragrances….and stuff." The medics' hands flip-flopped around, illustrating the uncertainty. "You went through med school; you should be able to figure it out."

Aid tilted his helm to the side and laughed. "Yeah, sounds like something Drift would say."

The pair of doctors chuckled in good sport.

"So, if anything- "

"I got it under control," First Aid interrupted. "Between you and Drift, I'm starting to doubt you think I know what I am doing here."

Hearing these words stung, Aid mistook his concerns. Why must he get tangled in this web of worry every-time? This compulsive urge to repetitively voice his concerns disintegrated his control like acid. True, Ratchet worried, but not from a lack of faith in other's abilities. "I didn't mean to come off that way… seriously."

"I know, Ratchet," Aid sighed. "You just fret. Too much, if I may say. But we have Velocity. Yes, she may be a bit new, but she is very promising. Also, the medibots help. And the ship won't even be full, seeing as other mechs will also take leave. Don't worry; this place won't fall apart without you."

Hearing the medbay would function just fine didn't ease his mood either. Would no one need him? What other purpose would he serve if not practicing? Healing is what he has done for so long that being the chief medical officer felt like his entire identity. Maybe this was why he never left the med-bay for an extended period, his fear of no longer being needed.

Becoming obsolete.

His facial expression clearly showed his thoughts for Aid became a stammering mess. "I…ah….I d-didn't mean it like that….um-"

Ratchet waved his servo and shrugged. "I know, I know. I…. well, I just need to learn to take a break…. You know. Do something other than just being a doctor. All the time."

First Aid gave a small smile. "Sounds like something else Drift would say."

"Yeah, perhaps he is right." Ratchet sighed.

"Well. Take this weekend for what it's worth, Ratch." Aid shrugged, fidgeting with the stylus that lay on the desk. "I know you are very dedicated to your work, and we all appreciate it. But you do have to stop and smell the roses sometimes." Ratchet just gave him mix between a grunt and a huff for response. "I think it'll do you good." Aid slapped the stylus down. "I think you need to focus on making yourself happy for once. And… um, perhaps Drift too." An elbow was jabbed into the senior medic's shoulder, earning a glare.

"Aid!" Optics widened, then flared. "This… this isn't a very professional conversation to have at work!" Ratchet objected.

"What? Drift would love to spend time with you off this ship. That's all I meant!" The smaller mech winked. "It's not my fault your mind went elsewhere."

How was one to professionally respond to that? Side-eyeing the younger medic was a start.

"Anyways…"

"Don't think I didn't see that."

"See what?" Ratchet barked, this time earning himself a glare.

"That hint of a smile- "

"Aid!"

"I know, I know…." Servo's waved in defeat. "Not appropriate work talk! But to calm your nerves, if anything goes wrong that the three of us cannot figure out, we will comm you."

"Good."

"But only if it's an emergency!" Aid waved a finger, stood up, and then stopped. "But in all seriousness, Ratch. Enjoy yourself this weekend. Let loose. Have fun. You deserve it."

The CMO couldn't help but smile. His coworker was right, and it warmed his spark to know Aid wanted what was best for him. "Yeah…I'll give it a go."

… … …

The drop ship jostled back and forth, cutting through the planet's atmosphere like a rigid granite block. Bot's gasped at turbulence, servo's gripping armrests for stabilization. Ratchet hugged his arms around his midsection to keep flab from shaking, staring off into space.

The medic sighed, hoping that feeling his jiggling belly would pull him from his thoughts. Continuous ideas of what if's tormented his processor. Did he make sure all the charting was caught up? Was the supply closet fully stocked? Were all refrigerated medicines put back in the refrigerator? Was the fridge door closed properly? Just how many mechs were left on the Lost Light?

More importantly, which mechs stayed behind: troublemakers always posed more of a hazard.

"You okay?" Drift asked, scooting closer.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Ratchet's spark swirled faster as his breathing quickened.

"This part of traveling isn't the best," The swordsmech babbled. "Never was a fan of it."

"Yeah." The medic swiped his hand over his brow, clearing beads of sweat. The drop ship felt warm and claustrophobic.

Drift eyed his lover, who sat rigidly with optics darting back and forth. "Hmmm…Let me guess… deep in thought about the med bay?" His servo gently patted the other's thigh.

"Nope." Ratchet's answer was short as his optics looked down.

"You lying to me?"

"Yeah," Ratchet muttered and idly fidgeted with his fingers. "Sorry. I don't mean to…."

"I know, love." Drift soothed, wrapping an arm around the medic's shoulder and squeezing.

"Don't overthink everything all the time."

"Just used to it, you know?" The CMO leaned into the sweet embrace. "I'm used to having to be on top of everything."

"Well, not for this weekend. You don't have to do anything for the next few days if you don't want to." The swordsmech cooed. "I can be on top of things if you want. I can do all the work."

The medic's cheeks flushed while the TIC had a toothy grin plastered on his face. "Drift!" Ratchet scanned around the pod to see if anyone was watching.

"Oh, don't be such a prude," Drift laughed. "Where's that lewd old man from a few weeks ago, huh?"

"We were in the privacy of my habsui-"

"No one is paying attention to us."

"We are on a drop ship full of other bots."

"So? You act as if I'm trying to get under your plating, right here, right now."

"Drift-!"

"Hmmm…..would you like an audience?"

"DRIFT!" The medic's jaw would clang against the floor if it dropped any lower.

"Okay, okay." Drift playfully bumped against the stiff medic. "I'll behave myself."

"Promise?"

"At least until we are alone." Drift smiled again, placing his servo on top of his lover's. "But in all seriousness, relax. Close your optics and take a few deep breaths."

The doctor paused but eventually complied.

"Good." The swordsmech gently rubbed his thumb over red knuckles. "Now, just focus on my touch. Think of nothing else- clear your processor- and just feel the sensations of my thumb rubbing over your knuckles."

The touch felt nice. Soothing. Very calming.

"Focus on the sound of my voice, sweetie." Drift softly spoke. "Imagine the fun adventures we can have with just the two of us. This planet has very lush scenery and an atmosphere like Earth's. You remember your time there?"

"Yes," Ratchet recalled how blue and green the planet had been.

"Remember the clouds?" Drift laid his helm on his lover's shoulder. "Didn't they look so soft and fluffy? Perfect for taking an afternoon nap on! And that sky had such a rich blue color. It must have looked amazing!"

"It sure did," Ratchet smiled. "My favorite part were the sunsets."

"Describe them to me."

"The sun would lower in the sky. First came a yellow haze, then the deep reds and oranges crept in. There was nothing prettier when there were clouds; they turned a deep blue or purple. Once the sun sank, the colors stayed a while, but the sky darkened, and all the stars appeared." The medic said dreamily.

"Sounds gorgeous."

"It was." Ratchet beamed as he melted into his lover. "You would have loved it."

"I bet I would." Drift sighed. "Feeling a bit better?"

Giving a quick systems check: his breathing slowed, and he felt at ease. "Yeah, I actually do."

"Whenever you start to feel anxious again, just close your optics. Think of something you can feel. Think of something you can hear… taste… imagine… It'll help you calm down."

"I see." Ratchet pressed his lips together. "So, I guess your goal is to teach me how to meditate during this vacation?"

"I can if you wish," The TIC smirked. "Though, I had other plans for your body."

The medic couldn't resist feeling giddy. Drift finally revealed his idea for this retreat, and it was not just to drag his aft out of the med bay. Recently, both struggled to keep their servos from teasing restricted areas; neither wanted to move too fast, but their growing desire was apparent; both wanted more.

Ratchet felt like he could do cartwheels when his lover proposed taking their relationship to a more physical level. Even though Drift worded it more spiritually, he knew it meant fragging. And it was about time. While he would never take more than offered, the way his lover revved up his frame tested his restraint.

What Drift had in mind was a surprise, stating they were in for an out-of-frame experience. He claimed it was a divine intervention that this rest stop was already charted. When prodded for more information, all the TIC said was to trust him.

Every mech on the Lost Light knew Ratchet wasn't big on surprises; he liked predictability. He trusted his lover, but that didn't stop his nagging curiosity as the shuttle landed. What was his lover about to put him through and, more importantly, could his old frame keep up? The CMO's engines nearly revved at that thought.

"Ready?" Drift gave the medic's hand a final squeeze before patting a thigh.

"I guess."

"Don't be such a Debbie-downer."

"A what?" Ratchet's face hitched. "Never mind. I am excited."

"You show it well."

The medic rolled his eyes and shook his helm. "I know, I know. But really, I am. It'll be good."

"Why, yes, I plan to be."

"…." Ratchet missed his chance to bark his retort; his lover stood up to lead the way off the shuttle, snatching his large tote. "Just what all did you pack in there?"

"Enough." Drift winked over his shoulder.

… …

The ambulance followed his lover's directions, carefully traversing the road as it meandered up the mountain. At first, Ratchet questioned why Drift asked to hitch a ride, but upon driving this road, he understood it was comfier being nestled in his medical litter.

"How much longer 'til we're there, kid?"

"Just a bit further." Drift fidgeted on the bed, bored. "Hopefully, this won't wear you out."

"I may be old…." Ratchet laughed. "But I'm still fully functional!"

"That's good to hear." The swordsmech idly traced fingers along the interior walls. "You know, it's quite cozy back here."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah… it's relaxing feeling your aura all around my frame." The ambulance tried not to snicker at that. "Don't laugh at me," Drift said as he discovered some buttons on the side console.

"I wasn't laughing," Ratchet huffed. "And stop doing whatever it is you're doing."

"You can feel that?" Drift asked, continuing his antics.

"Yes." The medic hissed. "It's beneficial to be… sensitive to what happens back there."

"Sensitive, you say?"

Ratchet recognized that purr-like voice and mentally scolded himself for his choice of words. The last thing he needed was to goad this tease on. Yes, he could detect bot's movements in his carriage; keeping tabs on critical patients in emergencies was beneficial. However, knowing what this getaway entailed and it being his lover's servos, he felt more perceptive. Feeling those fingers dance over his panels tickled his fancy. The medic wasn't even aware this could feel enjoyable.

"Sensitive…As in a good way?"

"Drift…."

"Is that a yes?"

"Drift!"

The swordsmech happily ignored him, dancing his fingertips over the console. Button edges were outlined, then paneling in between. Drift rolled to his side, freeing both servos for mischievous adventures. "You like that, don't ya?"

A seam that ran vertically on the panel was discovered. "What's this?" Drift mused, tracing the edge, giving way to a heating and cooling vent. "Hmmm."

Ratchet didn't like that sound. Just what was his lover up to? Never before did this action cause him to shiver with desire, but Drift somehow knew just what buttons to press. Ratchet barely had the time to snort at his corny joke before veering sharply to his left: something poked inside his vent!

"Slaggit, Drift!" Ratchet barked, refocusing his attention on not driving off the road.

A finger pressed inside the vent, and the touch felt odd. The sensation was neither painful nor ticklish yet caused the ambulance to quiver. The contact intensified, vents parting as a finger dipped further inside. Upon feeling something soft and damp, most likely a tongue, run along the rim of the valve, Ratchet nearly stalled his engine.

"Don't… don't make me restrain you." The medic's voice growled over the intercom.

"Oh, looks like I found a sweet spot, hmm?" The tongue continued its path, gently sweeping over the plastic vent before capturing it with lips. Drift's teeth teasingly slid across its thin, textured surface. "Oh, baby-HEY!"

Drift squawked as seat belts flew across his body, restraining him tightly. With arms strapped against sides, the TIC's was prohibited from molesting any paneling, buttons, or vents.

"I warned you," Ratchet gruffed. "Unless you want me to run off the road."

"You spoil all my fun." The swordsmech pouted, testing the belts with a firm wiggle. They held.

"I'm driving here." Ratchet secretly missed the touches, but he could never admit that. "Don't make me pull over…."

"Don't threaten me with a good time, bad boy." Drift shimmied until he returned to a supine position. "But we are almost there, so there is no point in taking a detour."

"Now you're ruining all my fun." Ratchet smiled at himself, playfully throwing his lover's words back at him.

… … …

"Here we are," the swordsmech chirped, and his partner transformed.

"I see," Ratchet stretched and scoped out the chosen location. Songbirds sang, and leaves rustled in the slight breeze. Tall trees loomed over both mechs, casting patches of shade amongst the landscape. Wooden and stone cottages etched with decorative runes lay nestled within the terrain, looking unlike any Cybertronian structure Ratchet had ever seen. "Looks nice."

"Nice?" Drift laughed. "You have a very... basic way of putting things. A place like this is spiritually charged with the energy of nature." He sucked in a deep breath as if to emphasize that fact. "Very captivating."

"It has a nice view," Ratchet said, pointing to where the tops of mountains scraped at the cloudy sky. "I knew we were elevated, didn't realize it was this high up, though."

"I wanted something secluded," Drift admitted with a shrug. "Not some tacky hotel deep in the heart of town. A place where we can let our guard down… to let loose. And most importantly: relax."

The medic narrowed his optics and scanned over the area. The scenery was a pleasant change compared to the walls of the Lost Light or even the med bay. The air smelt fresh and felt cool against his frame instead of stuffy and stale. All in all, everything seemed so open and accessible. Well, naturally, since one isn't on a ship floating its way through space.

Ratchet's glance traveled to his right, where he spotted a gathering of organics and mechanicals. They were in what appeared to be an outdoor temple, seated with their legs crossed and palms up. He immediately recognized this pose. Since sharing a berth with his lover, he had front-row seats to watch Drift meditate regularly.

"By relaxing, did you mean meditating?" Ratchet sharply blurted out.

"I don't expect you to join me in meditation if you do not wish to," Drift sighed. "But it wouldn't hurt you to keep an open mind."

Ouch. Ratchet felt the sharp sting in his lover's tone and instantly regretted it. He opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by the host approaching.

He'll have to apologize later.

"Greetings," A soft voice rang out, and a tall, slender creature adorned in flowing robes held out its arms. They were organic in nature, with horns and colorful yellow and green scales covering their body. A warm smile spread widely across their face, revealing extremely pointy teeth. "I welcome you back to nature. This is a place for self-healing, self-exploration, and self-realization. Wishing you all the success you desire. I hope your journey here was safe?"

"Indeed, it was," Drift responded kindly. "This is a marvelous place; the photos on the brochure do it no justice."

"Most things simply cannot capture the true beauty of nature in the wild." A slender hand extended to Ratchet, who clasped it firmly. And what did the doctor get in return? A dead fish. The handshake was limp and relatively weak.

"Ah…. Thank you…. You do have a lovely place here…."

The being nodded with a hint of a smile. Having freed its hand, the host turned to Drift. Their hand extended again, and the swordsmech gently embraced it within his own, brought it to his lips, and kissed the knuckles. This earned him a warm smile.

Ratchet watched, full of wonder: how the slag was he supposed to know that was expected of him?

"Come!" The creature's voice rang out. "Allow me to lead you to your quarters, where peace and tranquility await!" Ratchet reached for the tote. "Never mind that. We will have your belongings brought to your lodge. All you must do is follow me and drink up this glorious energy surrounding us."

Ratchet nodded, letting go of the tote's handle. Their host led the way through a patch of trees on a gravel trail. The medic began to follow and felt an arm wrap around his own.

"I hope you like the place," Drift said without looking at the other. "I realize it may seem like I chose this place purely for selfish reasons." Drift grabbed the medic's hand. "I've checked out several other locations. There are some resorts in town. Some looked very comfortable: full-service hotels with plenty of upscale amenities. But it just didn't seem right… didn't seem good enough."

"Drift, it's wonderful. Really." Ratchet said. "And I don't mean to be so narrow-minded. With my whole snide remark about meditating and stuff. It's just…."

"I know." The swordsmech smiled. "There are things we don't completely see optic to optic on.

And that's fine. But just promise me one thing, love."

"What's that?"

"Are you willing to give few things a shot tonight?"

"Like, what kind of things?"

"We don't need to get into specifics right now."

"I'd rather know before I agree."

"Trust me," Drift pulled the medic to a stop. "I won't force you to do anything you don't want to. Are you at least willing to consider this without such skepticism?"

In the end, Ratchet trusted his lover. How couldn't he? Drift never lied or mistreated him. And would anyone really fault someone for being kind? Slag, remembering back to that night Ratchet was caught stuffing himself, his lover didn't say one mean word. In fact, it was the complete opposite, Drift had made him feel like he was the most desirable mech on Cybertron.

Or the entire universe, for that matter.

"I do trust you, Drift." Ratchet smiled. "And I promise not to be such a stick in the mud. I will give this a shot."

The TIC smiled sweetly before leaning in to kiss his lover. "I promise you'll enjoy it. Now, better get moving. I don't think our host will wait all day for us."

"No, I don't think so," Ratchet laughed, and the pair walked up the path again.