Deleted Scene V
Ruby Teardrop

A/N: Merry early Christmas, everybody! :) This deleted scene and the next few will be based around Christmas, in keeping with the holiday season (all previous requests will be done, just put on hold until the Christmas ones are done) – this particular one was requested by SDG in a Secret Santa exchange we did (not really ‘secret’, but oh well...). We’ve had an Autobot Christmas in How We Seared the Sky, but what about the years between The Day We Hailed the Heavens and When We Dared the Dawn? This will focus on Ratchet/Rose, as SDG requested. Merry Christmas to you, m’dear, and enjoy!

Next up will be a festive Starscream/Alexis oneshot as a Christmas gift for Lecidre. :)

Requested by: ShadowDemon-Gengar

Christmas.

... what was the point of it, again?

True, it was important to the humans – many of them celebrated the incarnation of their deity on Earth, and many of them enjoyed it purely for its commercial value – and true, he had enjoyed it in the past.

But this was the first Christmas on which his spark partner was going to be sharing it with him.

Ratchet drummed his metallic fingertips against the surface of the worktop, wondering whether locking himself into his medbay and spending the day with his tools would be a punishable offence in Optimus’s optics. He knew that it would – ‘Christmas, after all, Ratchet, is a terribly significant occasion for our human allies, and we must respect their festivals, however strange they may be’ – but it didn’t prevent him from hoping that the day just wouldn’t start. Perhaps the humans would just sleep through it...

“Merry Christmas, Ratch’!”

No such luck.

He glanced down wearily when Mikaela – his cockcrow companion for many a Christmas over the past few years – dashed into the room, grinning. He barely had time to take in her extraordinary clothing before she flung her arms around his left leg in what could only be called an attempt at a hug, exerting what felt to him like a tiny amount of pressure around his shin.

“And to you, little one,” he chuckled in spite of himself, reaching down to tousle her long, straightened hair. “Now get off.”

“Aw, you’re no fun...” she pouted, blinking up at him angelically with those large, blue-green eyes. “You really need to lighten up and get in touch with the holiday spirit, Ratch’, hon’.”

Ratchet raised an optic ridge.

She looked at him with a slight frown for a few moments before the light bulb clicked on over her pretty head. “Oh!” she exclaimed, before her frown relaxed into a smile. “C’mon, Ratchet – the twins aren’t gonna give you a hard time on Christmas Day, are they? I mean, know they’re a pair of prank-pulling, bad-mannered, totally crazy-ass hooligans... but surely they won’t ruin your day? They are Autobots, after all... even they can have a heart at a time like this –”

“It might interest you to know, young lady,” Ratchet cut across her sternly, “That Sunstreaker only joined the Autobots in the first place because the violet colour scheme used on their symbol clashed with his beloved paintjob. He simply wasn’t able to bear the agony of having such an unsightly blemish, so he chose to follow Sideswipe into our forces.”

Her jaw dropped. “You’re kidding!”

The medical officer shook his head. “I do not... ‘kid’, as you should be well aware by now.” He scowled suddenly, refocusing on her. “And what on Cybertron are you wearing, Mikaela Banes?”

“Nothing!” Mikaela chirped, before she paused and giggled. “Oh, well, uh – that came out wrong...”

“Indeed,” he agreed frigidly. “Now explain yourself.”

Her cheery chatter had distracted him from her attire before, but now he saw it as clear as day before his suspicious optics – and he did not approve any more than he had done on that memorable occasion several years ago, when he had actually sung for her in exchange for her wearing more appropriate garments.

True, she wasn’t wearing a navel-bearing tank top with tiny cropped shorts at this particular moment, but he still didn’t consider her apparel to be particularly fitting for the season. It was fitting for a dance, perhaps, but he couldn’t see why she could possibly have felt the need to wear something so elegant – Christmas was generally a matter of present-opening and a little lively music at the base, but nothing that could merit such a long, graceful dress.

She winked at him. “I organised a girls’ Christmas fancy dress.”

Ratchet stared at her. “And for what purpose, precisely, would you do such a thing?” he enquired warily, fearing the worst. ‘Fancy dress’ had a myriad of connotations...

But she only rolled her eyes at him. “It’s fun, Ratchet. Duh.”

“I see,” he said stiffly. “And you are supposed to be... what?”

“Well, glad you asked!” his young charge grinned, spinning around with her arms outstretched so that the knee-length, silver-white dress swirled around her slender legs enchantingly. “You ever see Edward Scissorhands? The dress that Kim wears in that movie? Sam managed to get a copy of it for me off eBay – I was psyched! It’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, I swear. It was part of my Christmas present, but I think he’s getting me something else, too...”

“Ah, yes,” Ratchet muttered. “Gifts.”

She snorted with laughter. “You say it with such disgust!” she complained good-naturedly. “You’ll be changing your tune when you see what I got you this year – you’ll love me forever and ever... well, at least, I hope you’ll like it. Ironhide suggested it, so kill him if you don’t.”

“I shall remember that, youngling.”

A shout of ‘Happy Christmas!’ suddenly exploded from the door, followed by the sounds of innocent mirth as Jade and Sam positively bounced into the room. Jade was dressed in a flowing, snow-white gown that reached the floor, with a pair of feathery wings miraculously emerging from her back and a tiara halo perched on her head jauntily; white gloves came up to her elbows, and an diamond wing necklace lay against her neckline. Sam, on the other hand, was still in his t-shirt and boxers.

Typical of the boy...

““Merry Christmas to the both of you,” Ratchet chuckled nonetheless, smiling at the pair as they hugged his legs. “I see you have joined in with Mikaela’s proposal to look extraordinarily bizarre for the day, young Jade...”

“Yep!” the brunette laughed. “You know you want to join in, Ratch’.”

“It is my very great pleasure to assure you that I have never wanted to do anything less in my life cycle.”

After around ten minutes of pleading, arguing and blackmailing, the trio of humans managed to extract the reluctant Autobot from his medical bay and move him, through verbal force, into the communications room. Optimus, Ironhide, Skyfire, Arcee and Bumblebee were already up and about, as were Rad and Alexis. Bumblebee was wearing an enormous Christmas hat that Jade had crocheted as a Christmas present for him, and he waved enthusiastically upon seeing Ratchet.

“Merry Christmas... to you!” he played through the radio, and Arcee giggled.

“There you are, Ratch’!” Alexis smiled, waving a fluffy wand in his direction. Her own costume was exquisite, if a little short: a black dress, dusted with stars on the gauzy skirt. “We wondered where you’d got to – we’ve all got a few duties to do.”

Ratchet folded his arms.

“‘Duties’?” he repeated. “I thought this was supposed to be a holiday?”

“Oh, but it is, my friend,” Skyfire smiled, scooping up the angelic-looking Jade in his massive hand and placing her onto his shoulder, where she positively glowed with pride. “But apparently we have neglected to complete certain tasks concerning the ornamentation of the base... several rooms have been left unattended to, and we simply cannot have that.”

“Indeed not,” Optimus confirmed.

“No... of course not,” the medic muttered exhaustedly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What is my chore, then, pray tell? And where are those hopeless twins – I suppose they’ve somehow avoided the call of festive duty?”

It was just plain foul luck that had greeted him on this winter morning; so much for the holiday spirit that Mikaela had been so enthusiastic about. He was not a mech to avoid responsibilities – more of a mech to become obsessed with responsibilities, in fact – but it still seemed ridiculous that on the one day of the year on which they were all meant to be able to relax, some fool had forgotten to string tiny, light-emitting diodes across the roofs, or whatever nonsensical emergency had occurred.

Alexis smirked, tapping her wand against her button nose. “Aha... they haven’t, as a matter of fact. That’s Starscream’s duty for the day – making sure that the twins do adhere to their obligations.”

“Good,” he said grimly.

“You will be taking responsibility for the beautification of the celebratory plant life, Ratchet,” Optimus told him, indicating an enormous evergreen that had somehow appeared in the centre of the room during the night. “We will separate into teams of two to get these assignments done as promptly as possible; then perhaps we can partake in the distribution of gifts together in an hour or so?”

There was a communal shout of approval from the humans, and murmurs of general acquiesce from the Autobots.

Ratchet, however, had another question.

“‘Teams of two’?” he repeated pointedly, optic ridge creeping up again. “May I enquire as to who I will be decorating this... thing with, then?”

Optimus turned his gaze to his, and Ratchet blinked in surprise when he detected the briefest twinkle of waywardness in his commander’s optic. “You will be working with young Rose today, Ratchet,” he educated him cheerfully, ignoring Ratchet’s stare upon his receiving this information. “I have no doubt that the two of you will do very well in embellishing it with scintillating objects.”

Rose?

“Rose,” he stammered. “I – may I ask where...?”

His question was answered when the door to the human quarters flew open and Rose Connelly herself rushed into the room with Miles at her heels, her cheeks flushed and a desperately apologetic look on her face.

Slagging Primus!

“God, I’m so sorry!” she said breathily, reaching up to adjust the Santa hat that was pulled over her long, wavy hair. “I overslept... I can’t believe I overslept on bloody Christmas Day!”

A few chuckles resounded from the Autobots, though Ratchet remained speechless.

He wasn’t entirely sure whether to be thoroughly alarmed or utterly captivated by what she was wearing. She had taken on the attire of the fictional ‘Santa Claus’ character of human folklore – the one that supposedly stole down chimneys and left playthings for children without burning his aft on the hearth – but it had been adapted into a decidedly feminine, vividly scarlet dress that was edged with white fur at the hem. The length of it was ridiculous, giving him a plain view of her long, slender, black-clad legs, but she looked...

... stunning.

If mildly indecent.

Optimus smiled as Rose was embraced by the other humans, as was Miles. “No matter, Rose,” he assured her gently, and she gave him an embarrassed grin over Alexis’s shoulder. “As I have just informed the others, there are a number of small tasks that must be undertaken before the exchange of gifts – you will be working with Ratchet for the morning. Miles, you are with Sam.”

The colour in Rose’s cheeks deepened as the latter duo slapped palms.

“Alright... doing what?” she asked, twisting her fingers together and keeping her eyes on her delicate silver shoes.

“Embellishing the celebratory plant life with scintillating objects,” Ratchet managed to recite torpidly, finding it impossible to look away from her. “If... that is all the same to you, my dear...”

“Okay,” she squeaked, before clearing her throat and flushing yet again. “I mean, um, yes... that’s fine.”

Ratchet nodded mutely.

“Excellent,” Optimus enthused as they tried to avoid each other’s gazes. He made several wafting movements with both servos as if to shoo his soldiers out of the room, making towards the enormous door that led to the grounds outside. “Come then, everyone – we will rendezvous beneath the newly ornamented tree in an hour’s time. Skyfire, Jade, you are with me – we will be bedecking the outdoor structures with light-emitting diodes together. Alexis, you will be... ”

Their voices slowly faded into the distance as they all filed out of the room in their groups, laughing and chattering. It was like the countdown to oblivion – each person that left the room was another tick of the hand towards his being entirely alone with Rose.

... three, two, one.

The door slammed.

Clearing his vocal processors nervously, Ratchet risked another glance at his young spark partner. She gave him a timid smile, twisting a thick lock of coppery hair around her finger bashfully, and he returned it as best he could.

“Shall we... begin?” he managed to ask, and she nodded quickly.

“Oh, um, yes – of course –”

She let her hands drop to her sides and made for the pile of boxes that had been marked ‘decorations’ in Rad’s scrupulous hand, reaching inside the smallest and picking out a glittery bauble between her fingertips. The majority of the decorations had been hand-painted by Jade, who was a keen artist; each was exquisite and unique, blazing with festive colour and sparkle. She held it up to the light indecisively, glancing at the colossal tree before looking back at it and nodding.

Ratchet mentally steeled himself before he joined her in selecting them.

Over the next half an hour, the entire tree was garnished from top to bottom with tinsel, bells and baubles. Rose took charge of the bottom branches, standing on her tiptoes to drape paper chains over them; Ratchet, on the other hand, took sole responsibility for the top layers. They made conversation easily enough after ten minutes or so had gone by, for which he was intensely grateful, but he found himself unable to relax when his spark burnt so fiercely with every second of her company.

Calling for her.

“Would you mind passing me those spheres of tinted plastic, Rose?” he asked her finally, when they had come to the last box.

She tilted her head to one side. “They’re called beads, love,” she tittered, letting the said ornaments slither into his servo from both of hers. Her tiny hands made the lightest contact with his metallic palm as she did so, and he tensed to control an involuntary shudder.

Primus...

“Hmph,” he bit out, placing the string of colour to one side. “They still appear to be spheres of tinted plastic to me.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t be so meticulous, then,” she told him playfully, her eyes sparkling with mirth as she smiled up at him diffidently. Her cheeks were still pink, but she appeared to have gained a little more confidence in handling their one-to-one exchange since they had begun. “Oh, look at that... we’ve only got one thing left for the tree.”

He had almost been too preoccupied by her eyes to hear what she was saying, but he looked down at what she now held in her hands when her words finally sunk into his stupefied processor.

The star.

“Oh, yes... you are right,” he murmured upon seeing the golden pentacle.

She held it out to him willingly, but something suddenly occurred to him.

He looked down at her, shifting his optics from the glimmer of the metallic star to meet her expectant, sea-blue eyes. “Would... well, perhaps you would like to place it at the top, Rose?” he asked, trying his utmost to keep the Rose-induced quake from his baritone voice. “I understand that it is something that young humans take pleasure in.”

Rose blinked. “Really?”

“Certainly.”

She looked at him with apparent surprise for several seconds before she craned her pale neck to see the tip of the evergreen, squinting up all thirty feet of it apprehensively. “You’ll lift me?”

Ratchet nodded, extending an enormous hand and uncurling its digits obligingly. He could hardly believe that he was doing this, but it was suddenly coming to him all too naturally. “Yes, my dear,” he agreed sincerely, and she looked back at him with doubtful eyes, chewing her lower lip uncertainly. “And I give you my most solemn vow – my word as an Autobot – that I shall not allow you to fall. I remember very clearly your aversion to heights, and I have no intention of letting you come to harm.”

Her cheeks flushed so violently that they almost matched the hue of her dress.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “I’d... I’d love to, actually.”

“Good.”

She stepped up into his open palm at this, and he carefully drew his digits around her tiny form to make her feel more secure. Her heart rate skyrocketed nonetheless, and she grabbed onto his finger tightly, dropping into a crouch to stabilise herself. “I – I d-don’t think I’m ever going to get used to this,” she quavered, laughing nervously as she slung her arm around his thumb.

He hummed thoughtfully. “I would advise you not to look downwards if you suffer from vertigo, my dear.”

“I’m not,” she assured him, flicking her gaze up to the ceiling firmly. “Honestly.”

He lifted her slowly so as not to startle her, listening to her pulse pounding in his auditory receptors with his spark throbbing hotly in response. The seditious component was sending the most reprehensible signals to his central processor... he found himself suddenly wanting her heart to beat that fast again, not because of fear, but because he had made it so. To hear that thick, desirous throb, feel it against his holoform lips at her neck; he wanted to be accountable for a moan of pleasure, a longing sigh of his name...

He stopped, livid with himself for allowing his thoughts to run away with him like that. You are old enough to be her father millions of times over, and you dare to think of her like that?

... Oh, what was he thinking?

His age was the least of his problems.

Rose’s breaths continued to come unsteadily when she was at the correct level, still grasping his thumb as she slowly straightened her legs. “Got me?” she asked timidly, glancing down at him.

“Yes,” he murmured, not looking up. He would only end up gaping at her legs like Sunstreaker in front of a mirror... “Always.”

His systems were on full alert nevertheless as she leant forward and placed the sparkling star at the very apex of the plant. She fitted it there carefully, her heart still pumping blood around her body at a highly accelerated rate, before she stumbled back into his palm and sat down swiftly, her warm arms enveloping his index finger again and clinging fast. He was quick to lower her, more than a little worried, and she slowly swung those slender, elegant legs back to the ground.

“Well done, Rose,” he murmured, tipping her out of his hand gently. “I believe that you may be well on your way to conquering your aversion to heights, little one.”

“Here’s hoping,” the young human giggled nervously. Clearly a little unsettled by the experience – or flustered, perhaps – she turned her attention to the delicate silver watch that was wrapped around her silk-clad wrist, her eyes widening when she saw the position of the hands. “Blimey, we were quick!” she exclaimed, removing her hat and running her fingers through her hair. “We’ve still got twenty minutes left.”

“So we do,” he concurred, checking his internal chronometer briefly before he looked down at the young woman. “Perhaps you would like to inspect the accumulation of gifts for the occasion, Rose? It might be practical for us to sort them into manageable group... Primus knows that putting Sideswipe in charge of their arrangement wasn’t one of Prime’s best ideas...”

Rose grinned. “Definitely not.”

They spent the next ten minutes or so sorting the presents into piles; one for each human or Autobot that inhabited the Wisconsin base. They were all about the same size – that size being in the category ‘enormous to the point of being ludicrous’ – and it looked as if even Starscream had braved the stores as a holoform to purchase each and every person a gift. The number of gifts in Ratchet’s mound surprised him – there were a vast quantity of them, even from those who supposedly feared him, like Miles.

He suddenly felt a light tap at his leg, and looked down to see Rose looking up at him demurely from beneath her long, dark eyelashes. A small box rested between her index finger and thumb – a very familiar box...

“You didn’t have to get me a present, Ratchet!” she told him, her expression rueful.

A testy sort of grunt escaped his vocal processors and he shook his head, waving a hand as dismissively as he could. “It was nothing, my dear... and why ever would I not purchase a holiday present of some form for you?” he rumbled, raising an optic ridge. “It is customary at this time of year to exchange gifts with one’s friends, after all... I would not exclude you from that category, Rose. What kind of mech do you take me for?” he added, his tone a little more jocular, and she smiled widely.

“I’m sorry. I mean, I did get you something back... but it was very sweet of you anyway.”

His spark was positively glowing under her praise. He could feel it singing its casing; singing out a joyous serenade to her, pleading with her for further words of gratitude and consideration. Especially with that soft, enticing accent of hers. He would have given anything in the world to hear her tell him that she... loved him...

“Mm,” he managed, ripping himself from his thoughts stubbornly.

“Do you think Optimus would mind if I opened it now?” she asked earnestly, tilting her head to one side in a manner that he found utterly adorable. “We’ve still got ten minutes to kill.”

Ratchet cleared his vocal processors with embarrassment, busying himself with adjusting a string of already perfectly arranged lights and focusing his gaze on them determinedly. “I doubt that he would make any complaint; there are enough gifts to disguise the premature unwrapping of just one, I think,” he said as nonchalantly as he could manage, trying not to show how apprehensive he was about this. “You are welcome to open it now, if you would like to... I have no objections.”

He heard her tiny ‘yes!’ of triumph, and he could not stop a tiny smile from lifting his faceplates. She was twenty now – no longer an teenager, he realised – but she, like the others, still displayed continuous reminders of their formative years. However, his fond memories of their adolescence did not quell the sudden sense of impending doom as he heard the first careful tear of the wrapping paper.

Primus, he prayed silently. Please, for the love of all that is sanctified, let her like it.

He had selected it himself from the jewellery boutique that Mikaela had pointed out, purchased it as a holoform, and tried to avoid the assistant’s eyes when she had smiled and told him what a lovely choice it was for a girl with such a pretty name. It had been lying against the neckline of a mannequin, calling to him that it was made just for her.

A fragile chain made up the majority of the necklace, but delicate, silvery leaves decorated the lower half of it. Three roses, each carved of blood-red ruby, were intertwined with the plait of silver foliage, and a tiny chip of the same crimson jewel was set into each minuscule leaf. The central flower, which would sit in the centre of her décolletage, had a small cutting of the chain hanging from it; from this cutting hung a single, teardrop-shaped ruby, glittering darkly under the light of the Christmas tree.

The shredding of colourful paper continued for a little longer before he heard a short, sharp ‘oh!’ of surprise. He tensed, preparing for the quiet excuses, and the looming speech that would start with something along the lines of ‘well, it’s very nice, but...’

He was wrong to be anxious.

Rose looked overwhelmed for a moment, her hand creeping to her mouth. She looked at the necklace for a long time before she looked back up at him, holding it up.

“You chose this for... me?”

He looked at her vigilantly from over his shoulder, analysing the spellbound look on her face from the side. “I... yes, I did...” he confessed embarrassedly, diverting his gaze away from hers swiftly when she looked up at him. Nonetheless, he saw enough of expression to see that she looked – well, enchanted. He heard a hushed gasp of admiration; the gentle clink of the silver links in her hand. He had to ask – waiting for her reaction was like a slow form of torture. “Do you like it?”

“Oh, Ratchet, it’s... beautiful...” she quaked. “Really, it’s... really gorgeous... thank you...”

“It was my pleasure,” he murmured, smiling.

She studied it for a long time, viewing it from every angle and tracing the delicate swirls of the roses with her fingertip carefully, but then looked up at him again. “Would you... would you mind putting it on for me?” she asked him shyly, a smile tugging at her rose-pink lips. “I’m really crappy at putting necklaces on; I can never find the clasp.”

Ratchet genuinely had no idea what to say.

Of course he wanted to assist her... of course he was delighted that she liked the gift... but he wondered if he could truly trust himself to touch her without surrendering to his need for her. If he made contact with her skin at that proximity... Primus, just holding her up to the tree had been enough. Turning on his holoform would only heighten his senses, making him vulnerable to her fragrance and warmth.

“Of course I will,” he finally replied. “Bear with me a moment, my dear.”

Why on Cybertron was he agreeing to do this?!

After five seconds of deliberation – five sections of mental combat, acceptance, and preparation – he activated his holomatter projector, directing the two identical beams of blue light towards a spot just behind Rose. The thin rays outlined a strongly built human shape, towering above the young woman, before the holomatter began to fill the space inside of the lines. He felt himself shutting down into holo-stasis before his consciousness shifted to the holoform, his humanised eyes opening to the sights of the world from a different level.

Rose looked over her shoulder, a blush rising in her cheeks. Her pheromone levels fluctuated before rising sharply, her pupils dilating a little as she looked up at his human body, her lips parting slightly.

Her spark called back.

The medic took the necklace from her unresisting hand, which fell to her side limply as she turned her head back to its previous position. Without a word, he took both ends of the necklace between his fingertips, lowering it beneath her chin and to her décolletage. The ruby teardrop settled against the thin, pale skin; it lay perfectly in the hollow of her throat, hanging enchantingly between her collarbones.

He fastened the tiny, delicate clasp carefully at the base of her slender neck, sliding the tip of the hook into the link before he let his fingers trail away from it. Slowly. The soft, creamy texture of her skin was just... irresistible... as was the scent and consistency of her hair as he brushed it unconsciously with his hands in drawing away. He found himself wanting to linger there forever; to be able to hold the elegant arc of her neck, and intertwine each silky lock of copper with his fingertips.

She must have noticed. She turned her head to look at him, and he was struck dumb by the plunging oceans that washed through the irises of her eyes. Her eyelashes fluttered slightly, a spark of surprise igniting in the ebony of her pupils.

“Ratchet?”

He remained silent, unable to speak when confronted with such overwhelming beauty. A tenuous assortment of words that he might have said came to him, but his vocal processors wouldn’t respond – words unspoken that struggled to come out, but ended up dying in his throat. He could not believe that this lovely creature was his spark partner... his spark partner. His to have and to hold, if only she would let him. If only he could find the courage in himself to tell her that he wanted to.

Her breaths grew faster as she met his gaze, and she tilted her back head a little as he lowered his instinctively. Her eyes flicked upward fleetingly before she looked back at into his wordlessly adoring eyes, the shadow of a shy smile on her rosy lips.

“How does it look?”

“Beautiful,” he murmured. “You... are beautiful.”

Time froze as he stared languorously into her oceanic eyes. A little closer and their lips would make contact...

The door suddenly burst open, and the others all spilled back into the room – this time with Starscream, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe amongst them. Ratchet stepped away from Rose at once, deactivating his holomatter generator in a split second before he stood in his original form once more, his knee joints quaking and his spark howling with outrage at having been torn so viciously from his spark partner’s presence. Rose turned to look at him, her expression almost guilty, and he met her eyes uncomfortably.

Too close.

Much too close.

“Oh, wow!” Jade exclaimed when she entered the room, staring up at the tree in amazement. “You guys did a great job with the decorating; it looks awesome! And you even sorted the presents into piles... that’s so cute...”

“A job very well done indeed,” Optimus nodded, seemingly marvelling at the tree. “Well done, both of you.”

Mikaela grinned from where she was standing at Sideswipe’s feet, placing a hand on her skinny hip. “You two make a great team,” she remarked casually, directing the compliment towards both of them. “You know, Optimus, I totally think that Rose should train as a tyro mechanic like me... what do you think? You could use an extra assistant, couldn’t you, Ratch’?” she added sweetly, a threatening glint in her eye.

The commander nodded. “I believe that that would be a suitable arrangement – if Rose would like, of course.”

Sunstreaker groaned dramatically at this suggestion, slapping a hand to his helmet. “For Primus’s sake, she can decide later!” he complained, his greedy optics roving over the numerous, glistening heaps of gifts that had transformed the room into a shining mountain range. “Right now she needs to get her pretty little aft over here and tell me which one of these slagheaps is mine! Primus, you don’t seriously expect me to wander around like a fraghead trying to find it myself...”

Idiot, Ratchet thought sourly as he ranted on.

Rose gave him an embarrassed smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’d like that,” she said quietly before she rushed off, rosy-cheeked, towards Sunstreaker.

The Autobot looked after her in silence, optics glowing mutedly.

He suddenly felt a placid nudge against his metallic arm, and he looked down sharply to see Bumblebee standing there, his optics wide and insistent. He gave the neon-yellow medical officer a subtle thumbs-up before nodding towards the retreating form of Rose and playing a brief song fragment, whining pointedly between the words.

“Fell in love with an alien... fell in love with her eyes...”

“Yes,” the medic said absent-mindedly. “Merry Christmas to you too, Bumblebee.”

A/N: A song that I feel really gets the mood of this is Oíche Chiúin (Chorale) by Enya – give it a listen :)