Never Did Run Smooth, Ch. 15
(Yeah, I know, took long enough. Bite me.)
- - - - -
"What are you doing?"
Rattrap didn't even look up at the sound of Rhinox's voice. Optics firmly fixed on the datapad in his hand, he answered, "Reading."
"I noticed. I meant, why weren't you in engineering?"
"Cause I was here."
Rhinox sighed, but not loudly. It was going to be one of those days, apparently. No need to let Rattrap know he was getting to him already. "Rattrap, that transmitter is less than half rigged and I told Optimus we'd have it ready two days from now--"
"Oh, yeah. Seems like I remember you sayin' that. 'Cept, you know, I wasn't there. Nobody bothered to consult me on the timetable." Putting the screen in Rest mode, he lowered the pad and raised his optics to meet his friend's. "Seein' as I didn't agree to no deadline, seems only fair I should decide the pace I work at. An' I decided I need a break."
A heavy brow ridge furrowed. "Rattrap," the green mech began in a tone of strained patience, "this is no time to screw around. You of all people know how important that transmitter is. You risked your life--"
Rattrap abruptly sat up from his casual slouch, waving an arm dismissively. "Know how much sleep I've had the last four days, Rhinox? Guess."
The engineer's frown deepened, but he didn't respond.
"Now I know it ain't entirely your fault, I woulda worked my tail off for this project anyway, but the truth is, I'm crashin'. Almost electrocuted myself twice yesterday 'cause I couldn't focus on what my hands were doin'. At this point I'll have to start shootin' stims if we're gonna make that deadline. We both been down that road before, an' if I remember right, it wasn't pretty."
Rhinox sobered at the reminder and looked away. Rattrap went on, voice dropping into the wheedling, coaxing "Be reasonable" tone he often donned when trying to present logic... or an excuse. "I know you made a promise to the monkey, big guy, an' I hope to the Pit we can keep it. But I bet he won't be happy if I blow us all up 'cause my processor's gone numb, either. I need a break. So do you. For bootin' up cold, when's the last time you took a nap?"
The rat's reasoning sounded awfully tempting, and it hit Rhinox suddenly just how tired he was and how badly he wanted an excuse to take a break. He almost gave into it, even though he was well aware of the rat's knack for wriggling out of work given any excuse. He could just drag Rattrap bodily back to the engineering bay, of course, but that would result in resentful rat being little to no help at all. Rhinox sighed.
"Fine, take the day off for all I care. I'll see what I can get done on my own." Maybe guilt would accomplish what argument could not. Rattrap wouldn't let him work alone for long, or so he hoped.
The spy appeared slightly disappointed in his friend declining much-deserved rest, but then he shrugged indifferently. "Suit yerself," he said with his familiar not-my-problem tone. But as Rhinox turned away, he added, "I'll bring you a cube later just to make sure you don't pass out. Boss'd probably find some way to blame it on me anyway."
The tech just shook his head without turning around. Pest. Would be easier not to like him if he didn't occasionally pretend to care.
Rattrap, meanwhile, settled comfortably again and returned to his reading. He didn't plan on a long break. Just a couple of megacycles tops, to settle his nerves and quiet his mind before going back to work. He'd let Rhinox think he would be slacking indefinitely, of course. It was fun to give the big guy a pleasant surprise now and then. He'd saunter in cheerful and fresh and show Rhinox just what good a little selfish time could do. The image made him chuckle slightly, occupying him more than the text he idly scrolled past his optics.
Between this, that and the other, his rather wandering mind was completely unprepared for more company, and though he detected the footsteps, he failed to register their significance... until a taloned hand reached over his shoulder and snatched the datapad neatly from his hand.
"Hey! What the--"
"What occupies the rodent so?" a familiar voice hissed thoughtfully. "Pornography, I'm guessing. Possibly something so base and puerile as to actually lower my opinion of you... if that is still possible."
"You wish," came the automatic retort even as Rattrap stared incredulously up at the interruption. There were more than a few things he wanted to say to the saurian, but Dinobot was momentarily ignoring him in favor of reading the datapad... Sudden horror flooded the vermin as he remembered what was actually on the screen.
Most of Rattrap's vices and idiosyncrasies were well known -- often all too well known -- to the rest of the crew by now, yet he'd managed to keep a few secrets. There were things it would be too painful to let them know, things that might disappoint even their lowest expectations. One item he'd shoved into the deepest closet possible was an inexplicable taste -- one might even say a passion -- for that lowest form of literary self-gratification, the pulp romance novel. Damsels in distress, knights in gleaming armor, lonely maidens, alluring strangers, forbidden loves... it was like a drug. He didn't know why he liked it. He'd be the last to call it good writing, and it certainly didn't fit with any given definition of his character, which was why he wouldn't let it on under anything short of torture. Let them see his porn collection, sure; it was as vast and varied as anything their imaginations could conjure, even knowing him. But if anyone found him reading about the tough yet vulnerable pilot swept off her feet by the bounty hunter with a heart of gold, Rattrap might actually die from humiliation.
He made a frantic effort to snatch the datapad back, only to have it held easily out of his reach. Dinobot sensed his distress, and being the thoughtful and considerate bastard that he was, decided to heighten the embarrassment by reading out loud. "She could still feel the ghost touch of his smooth-alloyed fingers on her forearm, lingering like a sensation from a dream. Perhaps it was a dream, for she could hardly believe that--"
"SLAG YOU STRAIGHT TO THE PIT AN' BACK, YOU CARCASS-CHEWIN' LEATHERY MENACE! I'LL RIP YOUR CLAWS OUT BY THE ROOTS AN' STRANGLE YOU WITH YOUR OWN TAIL IF YOU DON'T GIVE THAT BACK!"
Dinobot read on, with dawning incredulity, pushing Rattrap down and away with one hand: "-- hardly believe that uncharacteristically warm gesture, or the words her dazed mind had almost failed to register..." His voice had begun to break in an odd way, and Rattrap dimly realized, in the midst of his own wild protests, that the warrior was on the verge of helpless laughter. "...had come from the (snort!) cold-eyed, distant mech who had been her companion (hmf!) for the last half-stellar cycle..."
At that point he seemed to lose the inability to form coherent sentences, and only read on with widening optics and eyebrows straining to take flight, until finally he dropped the pad and slumped against the wall, shoulders shaking with mirth. Rattrap grabbed the incriminating thing and hastily shut it off, though it was too late to do any good. He was in such a state of mind that if he'd had a weapon drawn at that moment, he might have actually attempted murder. Months and months now he'd been trying to make the raptor laugh, or at least lighten up a little. He'd finally succeeded -- at the cost of his last shred of dignity.
Well, I'll be damned if I'm just gonna stand here an' let him laugh at me. "You're DEAD, Chopperface!"
He lunged with such a power of rodent rage behind him that Dinobot, already half-helpless with laughter, was knocked off his feet. Rattrap tried to lay into him, but it was hard to punch someone who wasn't taking it seriously, and Dinobot didn't even try to hit back, just let his little fists ring ineffectually against thick fighter's armor while he kept laughing. Insults, curses and threats of horrific violence poured from the smaller mech's mouth without receiving any response. Then laughter bit like a bug and Rattrap, infected without warning, broke down into helpless giggles and doubled over on the fallen warrior's abdomen.
"You... are such... a complete an'... unapologetic bastard," he wheezed unforgivingly between hyena-like whoops. Dinobot just patted him roughly on the back, a condescending gesture of good humor that left the rodent slightly stunned.
"You are never allowed to mock my taste in literature again." The raptor seemed to have recovered his composure admirably, but he didn't make any attempt to get up. His hand lay where it had fallen, almost casually, and Rattrap found he didn't have much desire to move either. But his pride was still stung, and he made a point of shrugging off Dinobot's touch before pushing himself to his feet.
"Well, glad I can make you laugh, Butchermouth." He leaned over the raptor's head ominously. "If you tell anyone about what you saw on that screen, I'll see if I can make you scream. Capiche?"
He tried to sound fierce, but judging by the reaction, he failed. Dinobot rolled his optics and sat up, brushing himself off. "You take yourself far too seriously."
Rattrap caught his jaw before it could hit the floor. "I... I take myself seriously? Comin' from Mister Don't Mess With My Image, guy who spends half the day broodin' an' the other half makin' the rest of us look bad? You think I need to lighten up?"
Dinobot grunted. "I am a warrior. You are comedic relief, at best." He flicked disdainfully at Rattrap's nose as he got up. "Act your part."
"So I'm not worth takin' seriously, is that it? Well, why didn't you just mention that before, when you were so full o' nice words--" Rattrap bit back on the rest of the comment, perhaps too late. He hadn't meant to bring that up again so soon. It just seemed so contradictory, even for Dinobot. He'd been all serious and considerate then, and now he was as big of a jerk as ever... had anything even really changed?
To his credit, Dinobot did look abashed. He opened his mouth, then closed it, reminding Rattrap oddly of a fish trying to breathe out of its element. Finally he said, with a straightforward honesty, "I was joking."
"... Oh."
They stood in a quagmire of awkwardness for several very long seconds. Rattrap was still angry, but now he felt like a bit of an ass himself, for having taken the playful stabs seriously. They'd been playing this game now for over a year, and he ought to be used to it. That said, having seen the sincere side of the warrior once, it was hard to be content with teasing again. Things were going to have to change. He just wasn't sure how. And right now, he decided, he didn't care. He had enough things to deal with.
"Forget it," he said, waving his hand. "Just a stupid novel anyway. Nobody'd believe you even if you spread the word."
"Rattrap," the warrior said in exasperation, and the spy jumped -- that was the second time recently that Dinobot had addressed him by name -- "if you swear me to silence, I'll be honor-bound not to break it. I can keep secrets."
Suspicious, Rattrap eyed him. "In exchange for what?"
A loud frustrated growl sounded more like the Dinobot he knew. "Nothing, you sewer-crawling simpleton. Blackmail is dishonorable." (Rattrap was pretty damn sure he'd seen evidence Dinobot believed otherwise, but who was he to argue with a good excuse?) "I'll be all too happy to pretend this did not happen, and to never mention that literary garbage again. Satisfied? Or do you wish to sulk some more?"
"Nah, you'll do enough sulkin' for the both of us." Later, Rattrap vowed, he could try to figure out Dinobot's reason for letting off the hook. Like when he wasn't trying to figure a bunch of other slag out. "Fine, it never happened. Agreed?"
"Indeed."
"So, uh... before nothin' at all happened, what'd you want exactly?" Rattrap retreated his dropped datapad casually, wiping the screen as he spoke, like the subject was of only the slightest interest to him. "What brought you back from the land o' the lost? I was startin' to think you'd fallen in the river."
There was no answer for a moment, and he was about to look up and actually try making optical contact when Dinobot finally replied, "I had to get rid of Cheetor."
Rattrap glanced up. "Huh?"
"He insisted that I come back to base. He wouldn't leave until I agreed." Dinobot scowled. "I thought about eating him, but I'm not fond of hairballs. This seemed like the simpler course of action."
A smile twitched at the corners of the vermin's mouthplates. "Heh, yeah. That kid can be such a pain, y'know?" And silently, I owe you a big one, Furball.
"I'm sure he had good intentions." Dinobot snorted in mockery of his own statement. "In any case, if I cannot patrol in peace, I can at least try to make myself useful. Perhaps even assist you with this pet project you almost got yourself killed over. Unless you think the rhino would object."
Well, true, Rhinox probably wouldn't be thrilled... but he also wouldn't deny they could use the extra hand. Dinobot was no engineer, but he knew his technology. He'd worked on their signal towers before and even set up a few relays on his own. Besides, with him on board, Rattrap wouldn't have to attempt any more heavy lifting. They might actually manage to meet Optimus's deadline.
"Lizard Lips, if you'll just grab a wrench an' follow me, I can find you about a dozen things that need doin'. Pit, if you even want to just paint the thing for us, we'll be in your eternal debt."
"Hmh. If you want me to make you look lazy, I'll gladly oblige. Perhaps you can read to us while we work."
Dinobot managed to dodge the datapad that was promptly thrown at him.
- - - - -
"What are you doing?"
Rattrap didn't even look up at the sound of Rhinox's voice. Optics firmly fixed on the datapad in his hand, he answered, "Reading."
"I noticed. I meant, why weren't you in engineering?"
"Cause I was here."
Rhinox sighed, but not loudly. It was going to be one of those days, apparently. No need to let Rattrap know he was getting to him already. "Rattrap, that transmitter is less than half rigged and I told Optimus we'd have it ready two days from now--"
"Oh, yeah. Seems like I remember you sayin' that. 'Cept, you know, I wasn't there. Nobody bothered to consult me on the timetable." Putting the screen in Rest mode, he lowered the pad and raised his optics to meet his friend's. "Seein' as I didn't agree to no deadline, seems only fair I should decide the pace I work at. An' I decided I need a break."
A heavy brow ridge furrowed. "Rattrap," the green mech began in a tone of strained patience, "this is no time to screw around. You of all people know how important that transmitter is. You risked your life--"
Rattrap abruptly sat up from his casual slouch, waving an arm dismissively. "Know how much sleep I've had the last four days, Rhinox? Guess."
The engineer's frown deepened, but he didn't respond.
"Now I know it ain't entirely your fault, I woulda worked my tail off for this project anyway, but the truth is, I'm crashin'. Almost electrocuted myself twice yesterday 'cause I couldn't focus on what my hands were doin'. At this point I'll have to start shootin' stims if we're gonna make that deadline. We both been down that road before, an' if I remember right, it wasn't pretty."
Rhinox sobered at the reminder and looked away. Rattrap went on, voice dropping into the wheedling, coaxing "Be reasonable" tone he often donned when trying to present logic... or an excuse. "I know you made a promise to the monkey, big guy, an' I hope to the Pit we can keep it. But I bet he won't be happy if I blow us all up 'cause my processor's gone numb, either. I need a break. So do you. For bootin' up cold, when's the last time you took a nap?"
The rat's reasoning sounded awfully tempting, and it hit Rhinox suddenly just how tired he was and how badly he wanted an excuse to take a break. He almost gave into it, even though he was well aware of the rat's knack for wriggling out of work given any excuse. He could just drag Rattrap bodily back to the engineering bay, of course, but that would result in resentful rat being little to no help at all. Rhinox sighed.
"Fine, take the day off for all I care. I'll see what I can get done on my own." Maybe guilt would accomplish what argument could not. Rattrap wouldn't let him work alone for long, or so he hoped.
The spy appeared slightly disappointed in his friend declining much-deserved rest, but then he shrugged indifferently. "Suit yerself," he said with his familiar not-my-problem tone. But as Rhinox turned away, he added, "I'll bring you a cube later just to make sure you don't pass out. Boss'd probably find some way to blame it on me anyway."
The tech just shook his head without turning around. Pest. Would be easier not to like him if he didn't occasionally pretend to care.
Rattrap, meanwhile, settled comfortably again and returned to his reading. He didn't plan on a long break. Just a couple of megacycles tops, to settle his nerves and quiet his mind before going back to work. He'd let Rhinox think he would be slacking indefinitely, of course. It was fun to give the big guy a pleasant surprise now and then. He'd saunter in cheerful and fresh and show Rhinox just what good a little selfish time could do. The image made him chuckle slightly, occupying him more than the text he idly scrolled past his optics.
Between this, that and the other, his rather wandering mind was completely unprepared for more company, and though he detected the footsteps, he failed to register their significance... until a taloned hand reached over his shoulder and snatched the datapad neatly from his hand.
"Hey! What the--"
"What occupies the rodent so?" a familiar voice hissed thoughtfully. "Pornography, I'm guessing. Possibly something so base and puerile as to actually lower my opinion of you... if that is still possible."
"You wish," came the automatic retort even as Rattrap stared incredulously up at the interruption. There were more than a few things he wanted to say to the saurian, but Dinobot was momentarily ignoring him in favor of reading the datapad... Sudden horror flooded the vermin as he remembered what was actually on the screen.
Most of Rattrap's vices and idiosyncrasies were well known -- often all too well known -- to the rest of the crew by now, yet he'd managed to keep a few secrets. There were things it would be too painful to let them know, things that might disappoint even their lowest expectations. One item he'd shoved into the deepest closet possible was an inexplicable taste -- one might even say a passion -- for that lowest form of literary self-gratification, the pulp romance novel. Damsels in distress, knights in gleaming armor, lonely maidens, alluring strangers, forbidden loves... it was like a drug. He didn't know why he liked it. He'd be the last to call it good writing, and it certainly didn't fit with any given definition of his character, which was why he wouldn't let it on under anything short of torture. Let them see his porn collection, sure; it was as vast and varied as anything their imaginations could conjure, even knowing him. But if anyone found him reading about the tough yet vulnerable pilot swept off her feet by the bounty hunter with a heart of gold, Rattrap might actually die from humiliation.
He made a frantic effort to snatch the datapad back, only to have it held easily out of his reach. Dinobot sensed his distress, and being the thoughtful and considerate bastard that he was, decided to heighten the embarrassment by reading out loud. "She could still feel the ghost touch of his smooth-alloyed fingers on her forearm, lingering like a sensation from a dream. Perhaps it was a dream, for she could hardly believe that--"
"SLAG YOU STRAIGHT TO THE PIT AN' BACK, YOU CARCASS-CHEWIN' LEATHERY MENACE! I'LL RIP YOUR CLAWS OUT BY THE ROOTS AN' STRANGLE YOU WITH YOUR OWN TAIL IF YOU DON'T GIVE THAT BACK!"
Dinobot read on, with dawning incredulity, pushing Rattrap down and away with one hand: "-- hardly believe that uncharacteristically warm gesture, or the words her dazed mind had almost failed to register..." His voice had begun to break in an odd way, and Rattrap dimly realized, in the midst of his own wild protests, that the warrior was on the verge of helpless laughter. "...had come from the (snort!) cold-eyed, distant mech who had been her companion (hmf!) for the last half-stellar cycle..."
At that point he seemed to lose the inability to form coherent sentences, and only read on with widening optics and eyebrows straining to take flight, until finally he dropped the pad and slumped against the wall, shoulders shaking with mirth. Rattrap grabbed the incriminating thing and hastily shut it off, though it was too late to do any good. He was in such a state of mind that if he'd had a weapon drawn at that moment, he might have actually attempted murder. Months and months now he'd been trying to make the raptor laugh, or at least lighten up a little. He'd finally succeeded -- at the cost of his last shred of dignity.
Well, I'll be damned if I'm just gonna stand here an' let him laugh at me. "You're DEAD, Chopperface!"
He lunged with such a power of rodent rage behind him that Dinobot, already half-helpless with laughter, was knocked off his feet. Rattrap tried to lay into him, but it was hard to punch someone who wasn't taking it seriously, and Dinobot didn't even try to hit back, just let his little fists ring ineffectually against thick fighter's armor while he kept laughing. Insults, curses and threats of horrific violence poured from the smaller mech's mouth without receiving any response. Then laughter bit like a bug and Rattrap, infected without warning, broke down into helpless giggles and doubled over on the fallen warrior's abdomen.
"You... are such... a complete an'... unapologetic bastard," he wheezed unforgivingly between hyena-like whoops. Dinobot just patted him roughly on the back, a condescending gesture of good humor that left the rodent slightly stunned.
"You are never allowed to mock my taste in literature again." The raptor seemed to have recovered his composure admirably, but he didn't make any attempt to get up. His hand lay where it had fallen, almost casually, and Rattrap found he didn't have much desire to move either. But his pride was still stung, and he made a point of shrugging off Dinobot's touch before pushing himself to his feet.
"Well, glad I can make you laugh, Butchermouth." He leaned over the raptor's head ominously. "If you tell anyone about what you saw on that screen, I'll see if I can make you scream. Capiche?"
He tried to sound fierce, but judging by the reaction, he failed. Dinobot rolled his optics and sat up, brushing himself off. "You take yourself far too seriously."
Rattrap caught his jaw before it could hit the floor. "I... I take myself seriously? Comin' from Mister Don't Mess With My Image, guy who spends half the day broodin' an' the other half makin' the rest of us look bad? You think I need to lighten up?"
Dinobot grunted. "I am a warrior. You are comedic relief, at best." He flicked disdainfully at Rattrap's nose as he got up. "Act your part."
"So I'm not worth takin' seriously, is that it? Well, why didn't you just mention that before, when you were so full o' nice words--" Rattrap bit back on the rest of the comment, perhaps too late. He hadn't meant to bring that up again so soon. It just seemed so contradictory, even for Dinobot. He'd been all serious and considerate then, and now he was as big of a jerk as ever... had anything even really changed?
To his credit, Dinobot did look abashed. He opened his mouth, then closed it, reminding Rattrap oddly of a fish trying to breathe out of its element. Finally he said, with a straightforward honesty, "I was joking."
"... Oh."
They stood in a quagmire of awkwardness for several very long seconds. Rattrap was still angry, but now he felt like a bit of an ass himself, for having taken the playful stabs seriously. They'd been playing this game now for over a year, and he ought to be used to it. That said, having seen the sincere side of the warrior once, it was hard to be content with teasing again. Things were going to have to change. He just wasn't sure how. And right now, he decided, he didn't care. He had enough things to deal with.
"Forget it," he said, waving his hand. "Just a stupid novel anyway. Nobody'd believe you even if you spread the word."
"Rattrap," the warrior said in exasperation, and the spy jumped -- that was the second time recently that Dinobot had addressed him by name -- "if you swear me to silence, I'll be honor-bound not to break it. I can keep secrets."
Suspicious, Rattrap eyed him. "In exchange for what?"
A loud frustrated growl sounded more like the Dinobot he knew. "Nothing, you sewer-crawling simpleton. Blackmail is dishonorable." (Rattrap was pretty damn sure he'd seen evidence Dinobot believed otherwise, but who was he to argue with a good excuse?) "I'll be all too happy to pretend this did not happen, and to never mention that literary garbage again. Satisfied? Or do you wish to sulk some more?"
"Nah, you'll do enough sulkin' for the both of us." Later, Rattrap vowed, he could try to figure out Dinobot's reason for letting off the hook. Like when he wasn't trying to figure a bunch of other slag out. "Fine, it never happened. Agreed?"
"Indeed."
"So, uh... before nothin' at all happened, what'd you want exactly?" Rattrap retreated his dropped datapad casually, wiping the screen as he spoke, like the subject was of only the slightest interest to him. "What brought you back from the land o' the lost? I was startin' to think you'd fallen in the river."
There was no answer for a moment, and he was about to look up and actually try making optical contact when Dinobot finally replied, "I had to get rid of Cheetor."
Rattrap glanced up. "Huh?"
"He insisted that I come back to base. He wouldn't leave until I agreed." Dinobot scowled. "I thought about eating him, but I'm not fond of hairballs. This seemed like the simpler course of action."
A smile twitched at the corners of the vermin's mouthplates. "Heh, yeah. That kid can be such a pain, y'know?" And silently, I owe you a big one, Furball.
"I'm sure he had good intentions." Dinobot snorted in mockery of his own statement. "In any case, if I cannot patrol in peace, I can at least try to make myself useful. Perhaps even assist you with this pet project you almost got yourself killed over. Unless you think the rhino would object."
Well, true, Rhinox probably wouldn't be thrilled... but he also wouldn't deny they could use the extra hand. Dinobot was no engineer, but he knew his technology. He'd worked on their signal towers before and even set up a few relays on his own. Besides, with him on board, Rattrap wouldn't have to attempt any more heavy lifting. They might actually manage to meet Optimus's deadline.
"Lizard Lips, if you'll just grab a wrench an' follow me, I can find you about a dozen things that need doin'. Pit, if you even want to just paint the thing for us, we'll be in your eternal debt."
"Hmh. If you want me to make you look lazy, I'll gladly oblige. Perhaps you can read to us while we work."
Dinobot managed to dodge the datapad that was promptly thrown at him.