TG 'verse. A park in Iacon. Late awakening
Ironsides brought his optics online slowly, frowning as he looked at his internal chronometer and wondered where three whole days had gone. Wait... since the last thing he remembered was several days of overcharging....
Yeah... I'm not getting those missing cycles back. Ugh, is this the brig?
His arm was in front of his optics, but the surface he was laying on didn't feel or sound like a brig berth. This was warm, as though from sunshine, and it... was rumbling. And there was something pressing down on him.
Wait... that... sounds like a spark and an engine. And I've heard it before.
Frowning, he moved his arm so that he could see, only to grunt as whatever was pressing on him pressed harder.
"Hold still, I'm not ready to move." Roadqueen's voice made her chest vibration change slightly.
Ironsides' optics flickered as he realized that he was snuggled against his word-mate's chest and covered by her arm. "Where... ugh. Where are we?"
"Memorial park, I think." She rumbled and groaned. "I can hear the fish whistles."
"Slagging great. I wonder how many people have holos of us laying here."
"Probably about the same number as got pictures of the last time we passed out," returned Roadqueen calmly.
"...I don't remember that one."
"Thought not. You were just too cheerful. And eloquent." Her engine purr roughened slightly as she ran her self diagnostic.
"Sweet Primus... eloquent?" He cringed.
"Mmmhmmm." There was laughter in her voice.
"No...." He clenched his fist, but then started as Roadqueen moved her arm so that she could gently rub his back with her fingertips. "Huh?"
"Relax. I liked it. You've got a good imagination."
Ironsides fought the urge to pass out again as he involuntarily relaxed. "What did I say?"
"You told me I was beautiful and had pretty optics."
His browplates lifted. "Is that all?"
"All I'm repeating."
"...But that's just the truth."
She snorted and poked him gently, then continued the back rub. "Whatever. You need your optics checked."
"Nnngggg. Just got them replaced, remember?"
"Whatever," she repeated, though her gruff alto was pleased. Then it turned to a groan as she sat up and squinted around. "Feel like another drink?"
"Feel like getting purged on?"
"Me either. Let's go find our quarters and recharge where no one can take pictures."
"Sounds like a plan... are my legs connected?"
"I'll carry you." She got up carefully and turned homeward.
"I can walk."
"So can I. Shut the slag up, your voice is making my head ring."
"I thought you liked it."
"I like what you say when you're drunk."
"Ugh. Battleax."
"Runt."
"Grrrr...."
Yeah... I'm not getting those missing cycles back. Ugh, is this the brig?
His arm was in front of his optics, but the surface he was laying on didn't feel or sound like a brig berth. This was warm, as though from sunshine, and it... was rumbling. And there was something pressing down on him.
Wait... that... sounds like a spark and an engine. And I've heard it before.
Frowning, he moved his arm so that he could see, only to grunt as whatever was pressing on him pressed harder.
"Hold still, I'm not ready to move." Roadqueen's voice made her chest vibration change slightly.
Ironsides' optics flickered as he realized that he was snuggled against his word-mate's chest and covered by her arm. "Where... ugh. Where are we?"
"Memorial park, I think." She rumbled and groaned. "I can hear the fish whistles."
"Slagging great. I wonder how many people have holos of us laying here."
"Probably about the same number as got pictures of the last time we passed out," returned Roadqueen calmly.
"...I don't remember that one."
"Thought not. You were just too cheerful. And eloquent." Her engine purr roughened slightly as she ran her self diagnostic.
"Sweet Primus... eloquent?" He cringed.
"Mmmhmmm." There was laughter in her voice.
"No...." He clenched his fist, but then started as Roadqueen moved her arm so that she could gently rub his back with her fingertips. "Huh?"
"Relax. I liked it. You've got a good imagination."
Ironsides fought the urge to pass out again as he involuntarily relaxed. "What did I say?"
"You told me I was beautiful and had pretty optics."
His browplates lifted. "Is that all?"
"All I'm repeating."
"...But that's just the truth."
She snorted and poked him gently, then continued the back rub. "Whatever. You need your optics checked."
"Nnngggg. Just got them replaced, remember?"
"Whatever," she repeated, though her gruff alto was pleased. Then it turned to a groan as she sat up and squinted around. "Feel like another drink?"
"Feel like getting purged on?"
"Me either. Let's go find our quarters and recharge where no one can take pictures."
"Sounds like a plan... are my legs connected?"
"I'll carry you." She got up carefully and turned homeward.
"I can walk."
"So can I. Shut the slag up, your voice is making my head ring."
"I thought you liked it."
"I like what you say when you're drunk."
"Ugh. Battleax."
"Runt."
"Grrrr...."