Unfunny Tfp Oneshots/Bloopers

Ratchet has sirens

Sorry for disappearing again, I had GCSEs and forgot to say lmao.
Also I'm on A03 now, my username is Sounds and yeah I've posted this there aswell, which is why the paragraphs are messed up here.

"Woah! Ratch has sirens!"
Ratchet groaned, again, not trying to hide his annoyance at Bulkhead's exclamation.
"Yes, Bulkhead. I do, just like every other emergency vehicle on this primus-foresaken planet."
The green wrecker let his grin drop, still wary of the anger-prone medic and his passive-aggressive attitude. In the six months that the mech had known the doctor, he had already been reprimanded, shouted at, lectured, and physically thrown 37 times.
He was not about to make it 38.

Cliffjumper had no such survival instinct.

Cliffjumper, a short red mech that reminded Bulkhead endlessly of his best-friend Wheeljack, was what Ratchet liked to call 'Unicron brought back to life in mechanical form'.
Bulkhead knew that both Arcee - the femme who was a lot more friendly than she first came off as - and Cliffjumper kept count of the numerous altercations the mech had gotten himself into with Ratchet. The last time Bulkhead had checked- two months ago- it was at 53.
Yeah, that screamed 'Ratchet's best friend.'
 
"Hey Doc!"
"What. Do. You. Want."
The older mech was trying to figure out the Earth computer in the silo they had adopted as their base, his back to the rest of the area. He didn't turn to look at Cliffjumper.

"Those sirens... how loud are they?"
The medic groaned,
"I don't know; I haven't checked. I don't want to check because I don't want to know."
Cliffjumper didn't let this reply deter him.
"Well, I want to know. Everybody else wants to know too, even that scout that won't talk to us because he hates everyone."
"Bumblebee does want to talk to you, he's just shy."
"It's been six months, doc, he just doesn't like us."
"He's spoken to me plenty of times! You're just a no-good trouble-maker that I wish we had left on Cybertron."
It took a few moments for Ratchet to remember.
"Uh-Well, I meant-"
The medic made a few hasty noises that sounded vaguely like English and waved Cliffjumper away, turning back to the computer with an embarrassed huff.
"Huh..."
"Okay, I'm sorry Cliffjumper. I forgot that... well... Cybertron has... fallen."
"It's okay..."
"Really, I am sorry."
"I just... never mind."
"What?"
"There's one thing that might make me feel better."
"Like what."

Cliffjumper grins, looking at the mech that had turned to face him with a solid look of shame in his optics.
"Well-"
"I'M NOT TURNING MY SIRENS ON!"
Cliffjumper slumped his shoulders and hastily walked away. His plan had failed. Bumblebee's however, was just beginning.

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Bumblebee snuck up into the makeshift medical bay that the team had been stocking supplies for, following Ratchet. He always liked shadowing the older mech, practicing his spying skills for when the Prime would need his skills. Like the others on the team, Bumblebee held the utmost respect toward the Prime, spending hours training in the chance that he could prove his worth, behaving so well that even the stingy commanders from Cybertron would be considered naughty, and even keeping his finish clean so that the Prime would only see the best side of him.
'The Prime' had spoken to him seven times so far, once more than most of the others, something he was delighted about.

This time, however, was not to prove himself to his leader.
Bumblebee rounded the corner, squinting at the medic in the corner.
Ratchet seemed to be rifling through a large box of screws and bolts, an annoyed glare stabbing daggers into everything he looked at. This would usually deter the scout, not wanting to anger the medic that had saved his life, but curiosity took over his anxiety and he walked forward.

"Hello, Ratchet." He beeped, door wings flicking behind his back like birds.
"Ah, Bumblebee. Is everything alright?"
"Mhm! Just wanted to say hi."
"Right, well I'm busy at the moment so... could you?"

The medic seemed to have endless patience for the young scout, perhaps bordering on pity or something deeper. Bumblebee didn't think about it too much, optimistically blaming it on him being so likable and friendly.
"Oh... ok then."
The scout began to trail away, making sure his door wings were flattened so low across his back that they may as well have been trailing along the floor. It had the intended effect on the medic behind him.

Ratchet sighed apprehensively,
"What is it?"
Bumblebee allowed himself to smile, knowing that it wouldn't give him away under his mask.
"I was actually wondering something!"
The medic narrowed his optics, looking incredibly unamused. Bumblebee became faintly aware of the dancing his spark was doing in his chest.
"So... I heard about how you're an ambulance. And I was just daydreaming the other day and I realised that ambulances make noise when they drive sometimes, and I was just-"
"Going to ask if I could show you MY sirens?"
"..."

Bumblebee knew from the annoyed look on the medics' faceplates that he wasn't going to get what he wanted. His door wings drooped again, this time because he was actually disappointed. He turned away before Ratchet could look at him, saving his puppy-optics for a more important time. Behind the retreating scout, Ratchet had already gone back to digging through the box of screws with renewed frustration.

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If there was one thing Optimus Prime was, it was a good role model.
He made sure to always behave correctly, always enforcing the rules in not only his own actions but the rest of his teams' also. He also practiced what he would say to his team dozens of times before he actually did to ensure perfection- which may have explained why he'd only spoken to the detachment six times, practically once a month.
Even his old friend- Ratchet- no longer had the privilege of speaking to him without the Prime rehearsing almost every possible route the conversation could go down. However, despite his avoidance of his team members, some of their behaviour and curiosity rubbed off on him.
"Ratchet."
Optimus stood awkwardly across from him in the mess-hall that was really just a room with crates of Energon and five metal beams they used as benches.

Ratchet looked up from the cube of Energon that he had been swirling in his servos, watching the grains of unfiltered dirt that was still in it dance in the liquid.
"Optimus! Hello! I mean- um- hi."
Optimus silently stared at the medic, taken aback by his excited reaction. Ratchet seemed to mentally berate himself, faceplate flashing slightly blue as he sat up straighter on the bench.
"Okay..."
Optimus continued to stand awkwardly, optics darting around the room to look for an escape plan. Social Interaction was HARD.
"Take a seat! If you want to of course, you know what don't take a seat! Wait no sorry I'm sorry I mean-"
Ratchet breathed out loudly, cringing.
"Ok. Sorry. Do you want to... sit here and... drink some Energon?"
Optimus nodded silently and sat across from the medic, half glad that the other mech was just as out-of-his-depths as himself.
"Lovely weather."
"Mhm!"
Ratchet nodded, too quickly to not look like a weirdo.
"Lovely planet."
"I agree!"
Optimus sat stock still, servos resting on his lap. He sucked in with his mouth closed, wishing he hadn't indulged in his curiosity.
"Ok, so," the Prime cleared his throat and leaned forward slightly, "I have a question."
Ratchet smiled, actually smiled, and nodded again,
"Of course!"
Optimus glanced around, making sure that nobody else was in the room,
"Those sirens-"

He was interrupted as Ratchet flew to his pedes and threw his arms up over his helm, putting his impure Energon on the bench.
"Why does EVERYONE want to hear my bloody sirens!"
Before Optimus could say anything, Ratchet flew out of the door.
Well, there goes his social interaction courage for the month. Sorry guys, no inspirational speech until Christmas.

-----------------------------------------
 
FOUR YEARS LATER
 
Ratchet stared at the small human that was currently huddled in his cab, tiny knees tucked up to a tiny chest. Even with his head bowed, it was obvious that the human was crying.
"Rafael, what is the matter?"
The boy sniffed but didn't look up,
"Vince made fun of Bumblebee, he said he looked stupid and then made everyone laugh at me for having a weird-looking car."
Ratchet felt rage begin to bubble up inside of him.
"Right... and who is this 'Vince'..."
"He's this boy in my maths class, you know when I go up to the class Jack is in. But it doesn't matter, he left a few minutes ago so we'd never catch up to him."
Ratchet grinned.
"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

And with that, the world got to see the first premiere of Ratchet's extremely loud and extremely flashy sirens.
Vince may have shat himself as they barreled past, almost scraping the side and front of his precious sports car.