Work Text:
Mandatory Break
By DratchetIsMyJam
Ratchet huffed a heavy ex-vent of a sigh as he massaged his temples. His processor was beginning to pound from pouring over patient files. The glyphs on the datapads were all starting to blur together. Pits, he'd had to re-read that last sentence three times just so the information could sink in. His brain module was utterly saturated with data, but he just couldn't bring himself to stop... Not when they were so short-staffed... So behind... Well, behind to HIS standards. Of course, First Aid had INSISTED that he and Velocity could handle the load... But that had been BEFORE the little "incident" with Whirl and the inaugural running of his new and improved version of "hand grenade tag" that the notoriously unstable helibot had dubbed, "Hide-And-Go-BOOM". Ratchet had spent the better part of THAT particular afternoon sorting through parts and stabilizing the idiotic mechs they belonged to. This was BEFORE Rodimus and his band of merry adventurers returned from yet another one of their unnecessarily risky, planetside excursions complaining of pain in their circuitry. As it turned out, the intrepid Captain had led a rescue mission into the heart of an alien jungle cloaked in a strange, unfamiliar mist. They had ultimately succeeded in recovering the N.A.I.L. who had sent the S.O.S. but had also discovered just why the mech's ship had crashed in the first place. The planet's green "mist" had turned out to be a highly corrosive gas, capable of dissolving any mechanical components it touched. As it was, every member of the rescue team had to be isolated upon their return, confined to stasis pods to slow the damage while Ratchet worked on a solution. With Perceptor's assistance, he'd managed to formulate a serum that would halt the corrosion, but Rodimus and his team faced a long, slow recovery in the stasis pods as their self-repair mended the damage the corrosive gas had done to their frames.
Ratchet set the datapad he'd been reading aside in favor of picking up his favorite mug, bringing it to his lips as he reached into the box sitting on the floor beside his cluttered desk to fetch the next datapad in the seemingly endless stack, only to discover his mug was, in fact, empty.
"Bugger." Ratchet grumbled, setting the mug aside with a huff. "Nevermind."
He didn't have TIME to go and get fuel. He had to figure out how he could better boost Rodimus' stubbornly-low nanite colonies in order to maximize the impatient Captain's sluggish self-repair processes. He still had to re-attach Whirl's left claw... Still had to-
A gentle rapping of knuckles upon his office's doorframe jerked him from his thoughts, a familiar white-finialed helm peeking into view.
"Mandatory break." Drift announced, smirking smugly as he sauntered into Ratchet's office like he owned the place, a stack of three, matte-silver boxes balanced on his slender, splayed fingertips and a massive hot-energon blend clutched in his left hand.
Ratchet snorted as Drift employed his aft to carefully push the datapad his Conjunx Endura had been reading aside to make room on the desk so that he could set the steaming beverage before his mate.
" ' Mandatory ', hunh?" Ratchet remarked as Drift fanned the steam emanating from the drink with his fingers, wafting the sweet-spiced aromas through the air.
" Aid says you're not taking your breaks again." Drift replied, setting his stack of silver boxes aside, deftly removing the lid from one and presenting its contents to his mate.
"He squealed on me, did he?" Ratchet grumbled sullenly, chuckling despite himself as the swordsmech waggled the box temptingly beneath his nose.
"We have an arrangement." Drift replied, smirking smugly as Ratchet's optics began to track the snack box he'd assembled with keen interest. "He tells me when you are neglecting to take your breaks to properly refuel and recharge..."
"Oh, yeah?" Ratchet replied, peering down at the ridiculously organized assortment of edible delicacies his mate had prepared him. "And what does HE get out of your little ' deal '?"
Drift tapped his index finger to the other two boxes sitting beside his hip upon Ratchet's desk.
" Snacks are here, Aid! " Velocity called, popping into Ratchet's office unbidden to retrieve the two boxes, shooting a conspiratory wink at Drift.
" Velocity's in on this too?" Ratchet complained, rolling his optics with a huff of exasperation. "Should have known."
" What's on the menu today, Lotty? " First Aid piped up from where he was busy working away in the other room.
"Let's see..." Velocity hummed as he flicked open the latches on the top box, her amber optics flaring bright at the assortment of items. " Oh! He's SPOILED us, Aid! What is all this, Drift?"
"Fresh oil cakes, cadmium rolls with copper curls and coolant cream, and three-layer energels." Drift replied, chuckling as Velocity feined an over-the-top swoon.
"You're lucky you snapped this one up when you did, Ratchet." Velocity teased, popping a three-layer energel into her mouth, her optics fluttering shut in absolute bliss as the sweet confection melted upon her glossa. "Drift- MMM!- You are Conjunx Endura of the Vorn . AID! You've GOT to taste these! Thanks, Drift!"
Drift smirked as Velocity pulled a face right back at Ratchet as she departed, seemingly unaffected by Ratchet's trademark 'Hatchet Scowl'. The ambulance made to resume his reading but found his hand otherwise occupied by his hot fuel blend being pressed into it.
"Drink." Drift ordered firmly, his smile kind.
" I'm the boss around here." Ratchet teased, sampling the perfectly blended fuel.
"Don't you make me pull rank." Drift teased, plucking up an oil cake and presenting it to his mate with a hopeful smile.
"Cheif Medical Officer outranks Third in Command." Ratchet countered, begrudgingly taking a bite of the moist oil cake, the rich fuel melting upon his glossa.
" EX -C.M.O... And I think you'll find that's only in emergencies ." Drift stipulated with a chuckle as he watched Ratchet struggle to maintain his surly disposition as he washed his first rich mouthful of sustenance down with a hearty swig of his hot fuel blend. "How is it?"
"Better than a kick in the helm." Ratchet replied with a non-committal shrug of his blocky shoulders, smirking as his mate gave him a sharp, affronted prod. "Delicious, Drift. You know that."
"Still nice to hear it ." Drift sniffed, feigning offense. "So, how's everyone doing?"
"About as well as we could hope for." Ratchet admitted, downing more of his hot fuel blend. "Rodimus was touch and go there for a while when you brought him in... But he's coming around."
"I should have gone with them." Drift sighed guiltily. "Should have known he would get himself into a mess."
"It's Rodimus ." Ratchet scoffed, rolling his optics as he popped a cadmium roll into his mouth, momentarily savoring the crunch of the copper curls before continuing. " ' Mess ' is his middle designation."
" Hot Mess." Drift laughed, fiddling with a wrench Ratchet had abandoned on the corner of his desk. "How long?"
"Till he's up and wreaking havoc on himself and others again?" Ratchet surmised, observing with interest as Drift rose to his pedes to meander about his small office. "A lunar cycle. Maybe less if he BEHAVES himself in that stasis pod."
"So slightly LONGER than a lunar cycle." Drift surmised astutely earning a knowing chuckle from Ratchet. " ' Rodimus ' and ' Behaves ' are two glyphs that DON'T belong in the same sentence in ANY universe."
"True." Ratchet laughed, the tension in his neck cabling lessening somewhat as his dour mood lightened.
"You seem tense." Drift observed, gesturing to his mate's slouched posture.
"You call it ' tense '," Ratchet grumbled, popping an energel into his mouth and melting right along with it. "I call it, ' focused '."
"Agree to disagree." Drift remarked airily, earning himself a loud scoff from his mate as he sidled closer to lay his hands on either side of his mate's neck cabling. "You know something? You carry all your tension right here. Is your processor aching?"
"Who's the doctor here, again?" Ratchet snarked, smiling despite his tone.
"It is , isn't it?" Drift surmised, his long dexterous digits creeping up to rub gentle circles into the derma of Ratchet's temples, his thumbs simultaneously pressing deep, soothing strokes up the back of his tense mate's neck cabling.
" Oh, Primus... " Ratchet ex-vented reverently, his jaw hanging open slightly as he felt his frame relaxing into his Conjux Endura's talented touch.
"Doth mine audials deceive me?" Drift teased, chuckling smugly as he drew a low, contented sigh from the tired medic. " Was that a 'Primus' I heard just now?"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Ratchet laughed, shuttering his optics as his frame veritably melted under Drift's ministrations. "Laugh it up."
"Supreme compliment, indeed ..." Drift teased, his fingertips working gentle circles deeper into Ratchet's neck cabling. "A renowned atheist , such as yourself , invoking the name of Primus . Feeling divinely inspired , were we?"
"Aft." Ratchet laughed, letting his helm fall forward to hide his smile.
"Love it when you call me pet names," Drift sang sweetly as he worked, smiling as the medic visibly bit his glossa as his mate's thumbs sought out a particularly tense knot of cabling beneath his collar faring. " Ratty ."