Sparked Love

Chapter 4

The sun had sunk just under the horizon when the silver femme drove back onto base. The younger mecha on base had a thought that she wouldn't return. She did, much to Ratchet's disapproval, but he kept quiet for the most part. With the children at home, and Bumblebee and Arcee out for a drive, that left Bulkhead, Smokescreen, Ratchet, and Optimus on base. And now her too. She stayed quiet, lowering the rumble of her engines. After making her way in, she jumped up to her bipedal mode with a smooth motion. First Nightblade had tires as her peds, she gave a curious look, moving them again. They ended up on the back of her calf, she gave a quiet laugh.

Walking with as light a thump her peds could make, finding Ratchet at the control module and Optimus not far from him. She noted how Optimus would ever do slightly turn his head towards the white and orange mech. Ratchet either did not care or was oblivious to the slight actions, Nightblade figured the latter.

What was unexpected as she continued forward for a set of servos to run across her doors, they instinctively pulled close to her frame. She turned with speed and nearly knocked down the invader: Smokescreen. "Uh, what are you doing?" There wasn't a growl, not yet, to imitate from her, only a steady purple optic glare. "Getting a little handsie, don't you think?" She took a step back, Smokescreen shrugged.

"Couldn't help it," he said simply. "I wanted to see if they were real." Nightblade lifted a brow, her own servo rested on the crest of her hip. "They're real, I assure you. But I want you to understand this," she leaned in, lowering herself by a few feet to meet his level. "Touch me again, I hope you intend to kill me." Optimus turned from the module, optics drawn tight. "Nightblade." His first admonition. Ratchet had turned his head to see how this would turn out, watching critically.

"Yes sir, I remember your warning. Do not cause too much trouble," she said with a wink. Ratchet did not stop himself from rolling his optics and letting loose a low growl. Neither paid any mind. "Plus I didn't mean anything by it! You sir, know I don't like being touched; especially from behind." She chuckled nervously, turning her frame slightly to see the white sporty. Ratchet looked back towards the screen, though his interest was closer attuned with what Optimus was going to say next. Or do next.

"We all have our reasons," he said blandly. "Smokescreen," He stared directly at the Prime, a mild nervousness poked through his field. "If you're going to touch her, ask first. And you," he spoke directly to Nightblade. "Say you're sorry for having your blades against his neck." She gave a small laugh, and faced Smokescreen. "I had no ill intent. My apologies that it seemed as though I did." it did not sound insincere, however Ratchet was not having a good time believing her. Even Optimus hated to admit it, and he had known this femme early in his life.

Back as an enforcer, before going to the Iacon Hall of Records, he arrested her a time or few. They were both young but she was very stupid, probably still stupid. But now he wasn't so sure who she was anymore, a lot of things happened since he saw her last. To both of them.

Smokescreen nodded with quiet affirmation. "Yeah, it's fine. I think I'm going to head off to bed." Without a glance to anyone else, he walked out. It was quiet a moment before Optimus sighed and looked back at the module, doing what he usually does. Ratchet did not like her one bit, but he thought since she was going to stay, he may as well get used to her. Even if he didn't trust her.

There was a quiet tink and thump as she sat on the ground, leaning against the wall for support. Optimus look gave a sidelong peek over his shoulder but went right on back to staring back at the monitor. Ratchet actually turned around, brows quirked, optics holding a curious gleam. "What are you doing?"

The silver femme raised her head, a soft purple glare. "I don't know. Maybe try and catch some Zs," tone casual, like that of child. Though she was far from being a youngling, Nightblade could still banter a more relaxed demeanor. Ratchet maintained his curiosity, though now it was with some annoyance, and it showed as he stood akimbo in front of the monitor. "You know we have berths, right?" He allowed his annoyance to show through. She shook her head, but not because she didn't know – she did, it was a hidden laugher she held in. "Nah sir, I know there are berths. I'm just an odd bird; I enjoy the floor, it's cool." She tapped at the floor with a digit.