45th Transmission

[heavyweaponsbot]

[When the comm clicks on tonight, there's a long silence, while the speaker debates whether or not he really wants to do this.]

...

Hey.  Ratchet.  You... got a minute?

Top deck.

[And without further ado, Ironhide will be waiting on the top deck.  Watching that crazy old sky up there.]

Comments

[heavyweaponsbot]

[It's a relief when Ratchet speaks. An immense relief. He doesn't have to try and stumble over what he wants to say. He can just let his friend take care of that. He shrugs, stepping closer.

It's... now or never. If he runs now, he won't ever have the spinal struts to do this again.]

Not... exactly... A little of it.

[He reaches over to roughly grab the other's hand, and dumps something into it. It makes a metallic clink.]

... Mostly... Ours.

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

[There's a long silence as Ratchet stares at Ironhide, still having difficulty believing that this was happening at all.

He was perfectly content with their relationship as it had been, not thinking to expect more. It had been difficult enough for Ironhide to make that step - and it meant a lot to him that he even would.

But he certainly hadn't expected this.

Lowering his gaze to his hand, he inspected what Ironhide had given him.]

... What is this?

[He knew he should be addressing Ironhide's other questions, but his processor was blank. Of course he would. It was a horrible idea from a medic's perspective, but from Ratchet's perspective... there was no other answer.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[The silence... worries him. Was this wrong? Was he not supposed to... ask for this? He takes a step back, crossing his arms.]

Nothing. Just... forget it.

[It is, in fact, something. He wasn't able to find a ring like King had mentioned--not one that would fit his friend. He'd found a fork instead, and bent it into a rough circle.

Stupid, he supposed.]

Ratchet... forget--forget I brought this up. It... foolish idea. Stupid.

[There's a war. They're too important to their team. Should they go through with this, and something happen... they shouldn't risk it. He steps back again, intending to brush by him, and leave.]

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

No.

[Closing his hand around the ring, Ratchet makes a grab for the other's shoulder, trying to haul him back.]

There is nothing foolish about it.

I just... I suppose I assumed you would already know my answer.

[He manages a half-smile at that, still worried that he had somehow ruined this opportunity.]

I doubt there is any other who would put up with you - or me, for that matter.

[heavyweaponsbot]

...

[No?

At first, he thinks it's a refusal. His spark drops several inches in his chest. He really should have thought this through--

--and then there's a hand on his shoulder, pulling him backward. He staggers a few strides, before he can actually look Ratchet in the face.

And frankly, Ironhide looks like someone hit him over the head with a brick.]

... What? You... No. I don't... know.

[He just stares, as if by looking at him, he'll know what he's supposed to say.]

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

Even if- when we return to our own world, I would not regret what we have done here.

[Opening his hand, he glances down at the ring - While he was no expert at that particularly human custom, he had a vague idea he knew what it was meant to be. Looking at Ironhide's attempt made the smile widen, tightening his hold on the other's shoulder.]

You asked if I would consider - And my answer is yes.

[heavyweaponsbot]

[Again, the pole-axed expression. He can't quite seem to wipe it from his face. He fully expected this to end... badly.

But what part of this had been as he expected?

His vocal processor refuses to function as well. Never, in any brief, squashed little fantasy had he ever thought of... anything like this. Never wanted it--it had never been important. And then this place had happened... and all he wanted was to never leave his friend's side.

He doesn't try to say anything--speech has never been his strong suit. Instead, he steps forward again, resting his forehead against the other's.]

You... sure you can deal with me? Until... the end?

[medicalofficer.livejournal.com]

I doubt I would have had a choice - You practically lived in my medbay anyway.

[He chuckles quietly, resting his weight easily against his partner. It was more comfortable than it should have been, but... they deserved some reprieve after so many centuries of war, didn't they?]

Though, I imagine this will make the need for secrecy all the more important.

[If anyone so much as attempted to use him against Ironhide, he would saw their face off - As simple as that.]

[heavyweaponsbot]

[His confused expression is slowly slipping into a grin. He can't control it. And, suddenly, he doesn't care. His arms are around him. He couldn't let him go right now anymore than he could fly.

How did it get to this point? How?

...

Oh. Right. He owed King and the green-haired boy a debt.]

No one has to know. Keep it quiet. Just as before.

[One hand moves up to rest against the other's face.]

Going to have to... remind me how this works. Think it ran out of my processor just now.