D2MV. Diego Garcia. Moving Day

[dens_extra_pups]

Twitch: *The quiet is abruptly shattered by the pitter-patter of feet as a very hyper little skittyfemme goes tearing down the hall at top speed, all but bouncing off the wall to pounce an unsuspecting brother with a squeal.*

First Aid: *Starts awake at the sudden noise, optics dimmed still as she checks to make sure the small blue sparklet femme was still curled between her and the ragbunny that amusingly enough was the same color.*

Ratchet: *grunts and grumbles as he puts a hand over his optics and turns his head* Epps has been feeding the little bots charcoal again.

First Aid: *Settles back down on his chest with a soft chuckle.* Guess so. It's good to hear them happy though.

Triage: *Squirms closer to her bunny to CLING to it with arms and legs both*

Ratchet: *as Mudflap's shrieking is muted by the realization of just who has attacked him* Yes. I just wish that they wouldn't do it so early on a morning after Triage was happy for most of the night. *soft rumble of a grumble as his free hand comes down to gently touch his tiny daughter and make sure that she's safe*

First Aid: Doesn't look like she's bothered... *Teasing tone. Outside the room, the running starts up again, the hyperactive femme running for it after downing her brother.*

Triage: *Tiny little mrrble for her Daddy's troubles.*

Ratchet: *gentle fingers rub Triage's back, and then his other hand comes down to gently touch his mate* I don't know whether to be vexed or amused at the fact that Epps has proved prophetic in his announcement that our sparklet would be keeping us up all night.

First Aid: Here I think it's good she's so active. She just wanted to share with us, and it was interesting...

Ratchet: *rumbles again, but this time it's amusement* Yes. Yes, it was. *lifts his head, his optics shining softly in the darkness as he regards his tiny child with loving wonder*

First Aid: She's too inquisitive for her own good sometimes I think.

Triage: *Looks up at Ratchet with big optics, her ragbunny's ear still halfway in her mouth*

Ratchet: No. 'Too inquisitive for her own good' is Aren Prime's title. *chuckles again* Hello, Triage. Do you think we should sleep some more?

First Aid: Oh, you're right. The little adventurer.

Triage: *Mouthing on that ragbunny ear. Shakes her head 'no'*

Ratchet: *deep, soft sigh at his daughter* I was afraid you'd say that. *turns face back toward the ceiling and puts a protective hand over mate and daughter as his whole body arches in a massive stretch* Nrrrrrgh. Ahhh...

First Aid: *Chuckles* You say that as if you're surprised.

Triage: Ahhh?

Ratchet: *somnolently* One can hope. *blinks at the ceiling* Papa was sighing, Triage.

Triage: Ahh! *Beaming happy smile at her Papa*

Ratchet: *optics brighten slightly in a soft smile, but then he recalls what today is and sighs* Oh. Moving day. *grouchy grumbling as he sits up* As if anyone asked us if we wanted to move to the capitol of the United States. *snort, grouse*

First Aid: *Pats his chest* Well, there'll be less salt water to clean out of bots there.

Triage: *Tilts her head and mimics her Papa's grousing*

Ratchet: And even less space for Knockout and the other youngsters to move freely on the surface. *but he can't avoid a slight smile as he hears his little one aping him*

First Aid: It'll be alright. *Little nuzzle under his chin*

Triage: *Goes back to mothering the ragbunny while Mama and Papa are talking about boring things*

Ratchet: *lifts wife and offers her a gentle kiss, his mind momentarily diverted from moving day*

First Aid: *Smiles for that kiss, glad to see Ratchet's mind off the move.*

Triage: *Babbles quietly at her ragbunny*

Ratchet: *nuzzles First Aid* There should be time for a shower. We finished packing yesterday.

First Aid: *Nods* Mhm. Especially for little miss Triage here.

Triage: *Perks?*

Ratchet: *looks down at the sparklet* For Miss Triage here? Does she need a bath? She looks clean to me. *his gentle, playful words, and the smile that accompany them would make his friends stare if they ever saw them*

First Aid: Your optics are going. She was playing under the berth last evening if you recall, and Primus only knows how much dust is under there.

Triage: *Hides under bunny!* Clean!

Ratchet: Yes, but she's much too clean to want to play with her rubber ducky. *nods* *he knows his little girl so well...*

First Aid: True, true. Looks like we'll have to tell ducky maybe another time.

Triage: *Peers out* ...quack? OO;;;;

Ratchet: *mischief that Ironhide and Optimus wouldn't believe* Or play with him ourselves.

First Aid: Oooh, that's a good idea!

Triage: No! My Quack!

Ratchet: *looks down at Triage* But you're clean.

Triage: But... but Quack!

Ratchet: Are you dusty enough to need to visit Quack? *optics twinkle*

Triage: *Desperate* Want Quack!

Ratchet: Very well. *lowers her to the berth* Here, put Bunny to bed while we go to the wash rack.

Triage: *Beaming grin as she lays Bunny out carefully and pulls the blanket over the doll, tucking her in with care*

Ratchet: *beaming himself, though for him it's pride in this sparklet made from his code*

First Aid: *Lets out a soft coo of adoration, charmed by how sweet their daughter is*

Triage: *Kissies for Bunny before clambering back over to Ratchet*

Ratchet: *gently lifts Triage, and then gets to his feet and walks over to the in suit wash rack, where he sets First Aid on the shelf next to the plastic tub that holds the beloved rubber duck. This tub is carefully filled from the shower head, and then set on the shelf before Triage is settled into the warm water* There you go.

First Aid: *Settles down to wait, letting Ratchet get the tub filled and Triage settled into it.*

Triage: *Squirms a bit at the water before she squeals and grabs for her rubber duck* Quack!

Ratchet: *rumbles a chuckle, and then offers First Aid the gentle detergent that they use to wash their little one. Wishes he weren't too big to wash Triage himself, but comforts himself in the knowledge that she has one parent who is in proportion to her and able to do the homely tasks*

First Aid: *Gets the sponge nice and sudsy before going after the little sparklet with it, scrubbing away any evidence of dust or dirt.*

Triage: *Squeaks and squirms at this, clinging to her duck as she does so*

Ratchet: *watches and smiles as he scrubs himself with his favourite heavy brush* Look, Triage, I'm being cleaned too.

Triage: *Hunkers down over Quack and ENDURES. >n<*

Ratchet: *starts humming as he washes his shoulders* I was just speaking to Optimus. He says that our new base isn't actually in DC proper, and that it has land surrounding it. *thoughtful frown as he scrubs one elbow*

First Aid: Makes sense. Less chance of an incident for either humans or Cybertronians. *Absently as she's scrubbing Triage's helm*

Triage: *Are we done yet? Is it playtime?*

Ratchet: *quiet sound of surprise* He says that the base is spacious. And bright.

First Aid: That'll be nice. The sparklets will love it, I'm sure.

Ratchet: He also says that it doesn't drip.

First Aid: Even better! Less mechs with molding fuel lines and corrosion that way.

Triage: *Babbles at Quack as Mama scrubs her back*

Ratchet: Yes. *scrubs back* >_o *grooaaan*

First Aid: *Amuuuused ^_^~*

Ratchet: *sighs and turns his attention to scrubbing less enjoyable parts of his anatomy* *very quietly* Optimus also says that he's let the human President know about our sparklets.

First Aid: ...I suppose it is for the best. In an emergency it is prudent for all parties to be aware of them so they can be safely moved.

Ratchet: Still, after some of the attitudes we've encountered... it makes me uneasy.

First Aid: I know. We will just have to be careful.

Ratchet: *nods and sighs, then winces and makes a few funny noises as he scrubs between his toes*

Frist Aid: *Chuckles at that, sitting back once Triage is clean to let the little sparklet play*

Triage: *Diiiiive Quack, Dive! 8DDD*

Ratchet: *other foot. Meep meep!*

First Aid: *Snickers*

Triage: *What's Papa doing? oo*

Ratchet: *sighs and rinses himself off, then holds out a hand toward his mate*

First Aid: *All too happy to go to her mate*

Ratchet: *holds her close to his chest as he rumbles to her and scrubs her gently with her own special sponge* I don't know why I bother with this. You never get dirty.

First Aid: *Amused* Not always true.

Ratchet: Hrrrm. I guess so. *wash wash the dainty and beautiful femme*

First Aid: Not to mention you just like finding excuses to dote on me, don't you? *Teeeeasing accusations*

Ratchet: *quietly* It's expected of a man to take care of his wife. *steps under the shower again so that First Aid may be rinsed*

First Aid: Well I think it's sweet. *Shutters her optics against the run of water over her, letting it rinse the suds away*

Ratchet: *makes sure her white finish is gleaming* I'll have to polish you after we've settled into our new quarters.

First Aid: Ooh, a polish does sound nice...

Ratchet: *smiles* I found a type of oil in the Nexus that is supposed to leave one shining for weeks.

First Aid: Really? Well, we'll have to give that a try! *Grins happily at him*

Ratchet: *feels his spark melt at that grin, and holds her up to give her a gentle peck*

First Aid: *Returns that little kiss affectionately, just happy to have Ratchet, and their little sparklet.*

Ratchet: *softly, and with no sign of the doubt and hesitation that used to mark his interactions with First Aid* I love you.

First Aid: *Feels a swell of affection at that, expression soft* I love you too.

Triage: Quack loves too! *Holds up her ducky!*

Ratchet: *blinks and glances over, then beams at his little daughter* Who does Quack love?

First Aid: *Amused smile at Triage*

Triage: Ummm... *Hugs her ducky* Me! 8D

Ratchet: Amazing. I do too!

First Aid: Quack has good taste.

Triage: *Giggles at this, pleased by the attention*

Ratchet: *gentle touch for Triage's helm* Is Quack ready to come to our new home with us?

First Aid: *Watches Ratchet and their daughter interact with a smile.*

Triage: Yes!

Ratchet: And what about you, Tirage? Did we pack up enough yesterday?

Triage: Yeah! Got everything!

Ratchet: What about Quack, your tub, Bunny, and your blanket?

Triage: Ah! *Big optics* We need them!

Ratchet: Do we? We'd better get them packed, then! *turns off the water and offers Triage a hand out of the tub*

Triage: *Reaches for Ratchet with a squeak* Okay!

Ratchet: *lifts his baby and her duck, then tucks her next to her mother before tipping out her tub. Sets First Aid on the floor and sets to work drying out the tub and packing all the soap and sponges into it* Why don't you and Mama get Bunny and your blanket ready?

First Aid: C'mon Sweetspark. *Scoops Triage up in her arms to head out into their quarters and get the ragbunny and blankets together.*

Ratchet: *snaps the top on the tub, then picks up his brush and comes out after them, dripping a puddle because he didn't stop by the dryer*

First Aid: *Is in the middle of rolling a giggling Triage up into a blanket*

Ratchet: *rumbles a chuckle at the play as he puts the tub and his brush into the last open bin* *then transforms and opens his cargo hold* Alright. Can you load the bin, First Aid?

First Aid: *Nods and moves to settle the bin into Ratchet's hold.* All set.

Triage: *Squirms in her blanket burrito and giggles*

Ratchet: *forms a sparklet car seat in his passenger side seat* Bunny will have to ride in the back with the bin, maybe.

First Aid: *Gets Bunny and the extra blankets set up in the hold, before wrangling Triage into the sparklet seat.* There we go... all tucked in.

Triage: *Squeals and squirms and flails as she's buckled in*

Ratchet: *rumbles to his sparklet, and then turns on his radio* Look, Triage. Baby beluga!

Triage: Noooooooo! *wails*

Ratchet: *soft sputter* What's wrong?

First Aid: I think she's just being obstinate. *Wry tone*

Triage: Noooo!

Ratchet: *surprised and nonplussed by the amount of protest his usually shy and observant daughter is putting out. And then it clicks* Move Bunny and Quack where she can see them.

First Aid: *Nods and shifts the requested items so Triage can see them from where she's sitting.*

Triage: *Settles down almost instantly when she can see Bunny and Quack, with a soft warbly coo.*

Ratchet: ... Oops.

First Aid: ...What is it?

Ratchet: I should have realized she'd be unhappy if she couldn't see her dolls. They are her established peers.

First Aid: *Pats his door with a smile* It's okay... no harm done and she's okay now.

Ratchet: Yes. *sighs and opens the driver side door* Better change to your alt mode.

First Aid: *Slips into the driver's seat, using the small projector she'd been working with to make herself look like a human* There. Anything else we need?

Ratchet: *scans the quarters* We've got everything here.

First Aid: Well, I guess it's time to be off. *Little light pat on Ratchet's steering wheel*

Ratchet: *closes his doors, turns the stereo up just slightly, and then heads out of the now empty quarters and down the tunnel. Stops on the dock to allow a horse trailer to be hitched to his back bumper*

First Aid: *Settles in, taking her attention from what's going on outside to making sure that Triage is handling all the strange goings on alright.*

Triage: *Far more interested in watching everyone running around, to be honest!*

Ratchet: Our donkey will be glad to be out of quarantine and out on grass. *slight shift on his tires as something clatters in the trailer*

First Aid: *Smiles* No argument there. She's been antsy lately hasn't she?

Ratchet: A natural response to being locked up in a small container after being able to move freely your whole life.

First Aid: Well she'll probably like it better without sand shifting under her hooves as well.

Ratchet: I'll just have to make sure that the grass at our new home isn't too rich for her at first. *drives forward onto the ship that will take them to America*

First Aid: So long as you use the hay you got from the island grass first, you can ease her into it well enough.

Ratchet: Yes... *distracted by root mode Jazz patting her skidplate at the atoll*

First Aid: I just hope Triage can be a good girl through this trip...

Triage: *Picture of innocence!*

Ratchet: *slightly worried sigh* Epps and Major Lennox have both assured me that babies usually sleep during vehicle rides...

First Aid: If we're lucky. *She chuckled softly, shaking her head*

Ratchet: *deeper sigh as he finds his place on deck next to Ironhide and then settles down for the ride*

((Written by ohprimuswhy and random_xtras))