Here we are. The final part. :3 Enjoy. And yes, mech sex is imminent. Hence the 'M' rating. Do not read if you do not like. I don't think it's too graphic, but eh.

Consuelo

By B

Chapter 2

The storm raged on throughout the night. Luckily, the tent had held up against the winds and rain, roaring wildly above Ironhide and Ratchet's heads. Nonetheless, all the commotion didn't seem to bother either of them. They both went into peaceful recharge together, sleeping through the chaos as if it were a mere drizzle. Only once did Ironhide get torn from his sleep; Prime had radioed them on their status around nine. When he realized his men were in no trouble, the slight detection of calmly controlled strain disappeared from his voice and he let them return back to their slumber.

By dawn, the storm clouds had moved over the mountains, slowly drifting past the desert. Back in the city, the rain would continue for another hour or so. Strangely enough, the sound of the rain making nothing more than a soft pitter-patter was what rose the two Autobots from their recharge.

Ironhide rolled back onto his rear as Ratchet reverted into his original mode. "It looks like it finally stopped," he noted, massaging the plating between his shoulder and neck. He peered out the mouth of the tent, admiring the beautiful landscape; the dull rays of sunlight made the valley glisten, the steam wisping from the hot springs in thick curls and clouds. It was breathtaking, peaceful and soothing--something he missed back on Cybertron.

"Slagging thing lasted the entire night," Ironhide said grumpily, moving to Ratchet's side. He had to admit, the view was touching, but he'd never say it aloud. Not at the risk of sounding like some sap. "You think we can get our afts back to base now? Prime expects our return in at least 10:23 cycles, gathering the trip takes about nine," he informed.

Ratchet acknowledged him with a nod. "We'll leave soon," he agreed, "but first--there's something I'd like to do."

Ironhide cocked an optic ridge. "What? It better not involve another ten cycles of you studying water."

"Well, no, not really," Ratchet replied with a little smirk.

"What are you getting at?"

Ratchet just chuckled, said nothing more and ducked out of their makeshift shelter. Ironhide watched him curiously as the giant mech stretched out his limps, metal scraping against metal and wire, making soft hissing and groaning noises. The way the sunlight bounced off his chassis, illuminating the chartreuse and pale yellows and red--the weapon's specialist couldn't help but have to look away, clearing his throat loudly to distract the more imaginative part of his cerebral processor.

"There's this one last thing I want to do," Ratchet added and approached the large hot spring. He dipped his foot into the water, retracting it an astrosecond later. It was only out of instinct he had tested the water, for he knew its contents displayed little harm to his structure.

Just as he took a full step in the water, Ironhide burst out from the tent, bristled up like a wet cat. "Oh, no!" he snapped. Ratchet stopped and gazed back at him. "You're not gonna take a swim!"

"Well, I do have to do more hands on testing too, you know," Ratchet stated. Nonetheless, he stood still, not moving any further. "Once I concluded the water was safe, I made plans to try it out." He tilted his giant head. "Why don't you join me?" he asked.

"No," Ironhide scowled. He had his first and last run in with water when he arrived on this planet. "I think we should just get our diodes into gear and get going!"

Ratchet rose a hand to him. "It won't take long," he assured.

Ironhide glared. "Five kliks," he growled. "Nothing more, nothing less."

"If it is that critical--"

"Very," the weapon's specialist snorted.

Ratchet shrugged and moved further into the pool. His feet brushed along the very bottom of the spring; standing, it reached up to his thighs alone. The medic waded in the water for a good few seconds, moving in a circle, eyeing the surface of the dark blue liquid. Without his x-ray vision, he could not see his feet at the bottom, where the rocks were dark and black. Ironhide impatiently stood nearby, checking his internal chronocounter every half an astrosecond.

Finally, satisfied, the CMO slowly came to a sit, propping himself along a giant boulder towards the bottom. Now the water just lightly brushed up against his shoulders. Ratchet's cooling systems released a soft grumble akin to a human's sigh, that of relief and comfort.

After a full two minutes, Ironhide's patience ran out. "Are you satisfied?" he demanded. "Get the results you came for?"

"No to both inquiries," Ratchet replied. He rose his hand from the water, watching it pour off his fingers in small streams. Without a single word, he forcefully ripped a small panel from above his wrist, wires torn and glitching. Both he and Ironhide cursed in unison.

"What the Pit do you think you're doing!?" Ironhide snarled, shocked.

Ratchet watched thin lines of purple energon drip into the pool, bubbling to the surface with its thicker content. "Testing the waters, I told you," the CMO answered calmly and dipped his arm back into the water. There came a sharp tingle that jolted up his arm, doing a full course three times around. However, there didn't seem to be anymore side effects that would cause more damage than he all ready had. The wound was very minor even then.

Ironhide marched up to the shore of the pool, stopping just short of entering. "You don't know what it could--"

"Allow me to reiterate: I've concluded all ready the water cannot damage our systems," Ratchet repeated, raising his arm from the water. His wound remained open, but the energon flow had decreased. "I just wanted to see if it had healing proprieties like it does for humans."

"Well apparently you're not healed," the truck snapped. He reached out and snatched Ratchet's hand, squeezing it tightly. It made the CMO wince but nothing more. "Now c'mon out of there before you start to rust or something!"

Ratchet grinned lopsidedly. "I told you, the water will do us no harm."

"I don't care if it'll turn you golden and indestructible, we're wasting valuable time; let's go," Ironhide seethed, jerking Ratchet up.

Ratchet scowled. "I'm not finished yet," he stated, yanking back his hand.

Ironhide just gave it another pull, nearly succeeding in dragging the medic out. "Who knows how long it'll take for that to heal! If it'll heal at all!" he shouted. Underlying panic told his instincts to get Ratchet out of there right now, fearing this unknown substance. Though Ratchet had told him time and time again he'd be fine, it just didn't sit well for the weapon's specialist. New and foreign things never really did.

Ratchet, however, was not about to let Ironhide have his way. Both mechs were stubborn and it was obvious as shown in their type of tug-o-war with the medic's arm. Ratchet narrowed his optics and coiled his digits into a fist. "I'm not," he seethed, before using all his strength to wrench his hand free, "leaving yet!"

To both the Autobots' shock, the pull had been strong enough to cause Ironhide to lose his balance and footing, flinging him forward. Ratchet gaped as he watched Ironhide's chassis close in on top of him. A second later, Ironhide hit him and the water, both bots disappearing beneath the surface, save for their tangled limbs up in the air.

Ironhide stood quickly, furiously shaking the water off like a wet dog. He turned and looked back, watching Ratchet submerge. "Slag you, Ratchet!" he barked.

"I-Ironhide," the medic said, optics wide. He bolted to a stand, water pouring in rivers off his body. He reached out and took the soldier by the arms. "Are you all right?" he asked, concerned.

"I'm fine!" Ironhide fumed, giving Ratchet a forceful shove away in the chest. Ratchet tumbled over, the small of his back hitting a jutting rock, scraping along the metal with an ear piercing screech; paint chipped off in a single line. Ironhide's face twisted in surprise; he turned to his teammate sinking painfully back into the hot water.

Ratchet touched his back with a grimace, the weapon's specialist kneeling beside him. "Is the damage extensive?" Ironhide inquired, repressing the concern in his voice.

"Unfortunately for you, no," Ratchet groaned. "Superficial at best."

Ironhide snorted and stood his fullest. He shook a little more, retracting his missiles and weapons to see if they had sustained any damage. Water had managed to sneak into his compartments, gushing out when he opened them. This caused him to grumble with fury, but do nothing more. "I should test the guns," he said with a bitter sneer, "see if they're still in working condition."

"That's just an excuse to blow something up and you know it," Ratchet snapped. He gave the surface of the water a slap; enough impact that would have caused something like an ocean's wave. "Why don't you just sit down and cool yourself off?" This made him chuckle internally a little bit, considering the heat of the water.

Ironhide stiffened. "I'm not wounded," he spat, "so there's no need." He then made his way back to dry land.

Ratchet reached out and snaked a hand around his wrist. Ironhide came to a halt and glowered back at him. "If I said 'pretty please,' would you reconsider?" the medic inquired softly, a pleasant little smile playing at his lip components.

Ironhide's optics blinked. The way Ratchet looked so sweet, so... submissive... The old soldier gave another deep throaty grumble. "If I join you, then we leave when I say we leave," he ordered, pointing down at the mech. "No stalling, no begging or pleading. Got it?"

Ratchet rose a hand. "By Primus's honor," he promised.

Ironhide muttered various incoherent, unrelated ramblings as he reluctantly slipped into the depth of the pool, until he was sitting adjacent of Ratchet. Ratchet smiled at him then went to checking his wound. The energon-blood flow had stopped, but nothing more. The medic had anticipated the healing components of the hot springs may only effect organic materials, but still he hoped. He didn't voice this observation and just dipped his hand back into the water, sitting against the rock that had previously offended his back.

"Any progress?"

"No, none."

"Figures."

Ratchet flicked some water at the 'bot. "How about you?" he queried. "Feeling relaxed? If that's even possible, that is."

"You're one to talk, and no," Ironhide said quickly. The warm water, however, was starting to loosen up his stiff joints. Still, it hadn't cured him of his sullied mood.

"Even if it can't heal any of our wounds," Ratchet conversed and sunk deeper into the hot water, "at least it's soothing. I'm sure at least Prime and Bumblebee would enjoy this." He had masked the condescending tone just enough to confuse Ironhide.

Ironhide mumbled and looked aside. He could no longer see the rain clouds. "They could just stand out in the rain and get the same as this," he said, giving the water a careless slap, as if it would actually wound the substance.

Ratchet dimmed his optics. "For some reason," he smirked, "I find that hard to believe in comparison."

Ironhide just made a little 'feh' and flopped back. Just as his back made contact with the rocks, there came a soft beeping from the tent. Ratchet sat up immediately, optics onlining. "What's that?" Ironhide demanded.

"The results for my last test are finished," Ratchet answered. He withdrew from the water and headed back to their shelter, leaving a wet trail behind him.

For some reason, Ironhide kept still, though his processors were telling him to get up and use this chance to get them moving. But he stayed there, letting the circulation of the water move through his joints. It felt kinda good--kinda.

A moment later, Ratchet came stumbling from the tent, overjoyed. "You won't believe this!" he exclaimed, causing Ironhide to jump in shock and nearly shoot a missile at him.

Ironhide turned in his seat, snarling, "Geez--Well, what!?"

Ratchet showed him the data pad. "I cross ran the water's content with various viral bacterias, both human and Cybertronian, from samples I brought along," he explained happily, "and the water completely eliminated all the components of a scarplet's DNA!"

Ironhide was surprised, though not visibly so. The results on the data pad were firm evidence that what Ratchet was telling him wasn't idealistic bullshit. "Scraplets?" he echoed, awed. "They're the most deadliest disease to us in--in the entire slagging universe..."

"And water is the cure!" Ratchet exclaimed, taking back the data pad. "We just discovered the cure to the Scraplet disease, Ironhide! Can you believe it!?"

Ironhide couldn't help but slowly smile then break out into laughter. "Well, slag!" he chortled.

Ratchet shook the data pad at him. "I guess all my research was worth it in the end, wasn't it?" he asked with a snarky little grin.

"Now you're just rubbing it in," Ironhide retorted.

Ratchet was too busy floating on his happy little cloud to hear him. He read and reread the data pad, and with each read his blue optics seemed to glow brighter and brighter. Ironhide's smile widened. He knew this was reaching some sort of pinnacle for Ratchet. Discovering a cure for a deadly disease was perhaps one of the greatest blessings a medic of any species could receive. The raw and intense happiness that radiated from Ratchet touched Ironhide's own spark.

The cranky veneer parted; Ironhide reached out and wrapped his arms in a bear hug around Ratchet's waist. The CMO startled, ripped from his fantasy, as Ironhide cackled and threw him into the pool. Water gushed up like a geyser, drenching everything around it within five to ten feet.

Ratchet popped out of the water with an alarmed face, flapping his arms like a bird. Before he could demand what the Hell Ironhide thought he was doing, the old soldier just threw himself onto him, pinning him against the rocks, arms wrapped tightly around his torso. "You--what's gotten into you?" Ratchet scowled, though he had to admit this was a nice change of mood.

"I'm ecstatic," Ironhide answered, "that I don't have to blow slag up to ease my anger after going on what I thought would be a pointless mission."

Ratchet just laughed and gave his head a little shake. "You scared me for a moment," he taunted, "I thought the water did something to your logic circuits."

"If you'd rather I not be in a good mood, I'm fine with reverting back to my previous one," Ironhide gibed with a playful snort.

"No, no," Ratchet chuckled. He dimmed his optics and pressed the top of his helm against Ironhide's chin tenderly. "I rather like this."

Ironhide smirked and rested his chin on top of his head. "Enjoy it. It's a rarity."

Ratchet said nothing; he drew back, sliding the side of his helm against the side of Ironhide's. The medic nuzzled Ironhide's face tenderly. The water bubbled as their engines gave soft pleasurable purrs below. "Looks like you're in an even greater mood than I am," the weapon's specialist teased, continuing to cuddle, helm to helm.

"You might as well enjoy it too," Ratchet snickered.

The mechs wrapped their arms around one another, until their entire chassises were pressed together. Metal groaned against metal as they continued their tango, gently rubbing their faceplates against each other, as if trying to melt into one form. In a cat-like fashion, they wrapped around each other, coiled in their embrace tight and firm. Beneath the water, their feet pet one the others, knees brushing together.

The Autobots' digits clicked and tapped in a type of sing-song rhythm as they squeezed each other closer, until near every part of their body was touching. Ratchet rolled along Ironhide's chest as the latter soldier ground his hips hard into his. The plating was especially sensitive down there, and the soft current and heat of the water only added to the sensitivity. This made for some interesting noises to come out of the medic's mouth, vents opening to breath bubbles of heat into the water.

The courting dance continued for another minute or two, Ratchet and Ironhide making sure they had touched and caressed every part of their bodies, as if marking territories, as if kneading and readying their chassises for after foreplay. Not a word passed their mouths as Ironhide opened his chest panel, revealing an exotic display of wiring and circuitry, all twirled and wrapped protectively in and around his spark chamber.

As he went about fiddling with his circuitry, Ratchet complied with the silent request and opened his own chest plating. Both Autobots disconnected one end of a set of six purple cords connected to their spark chambers. They had served as types of vein pumping energy and fluids from their spark into their system and back, much like a human heart and its veins and vessels.

"The water ain't gonna do any damage to our interior, right?" Ironhide grumbled, nervously unplugging another wire.

"Not at all," Ratchet assured. "You'll be just fine."

Satisfied with his answer, the two unraveled their wires; Ironhide caressed the bare sockets in Ratchet's chest in uncharacteristic tenderness before plugging one wire in. Ratchet returned the touch with his own soft petting, connecting his cords with Ironhide. Within a klik, their wires had been crisscrossed, one end of each connected to their own spark, the others to their partner's. One per chest, one per throat, two in each hip and two connected in ports in their inner thigh's paneling.

Ironhide pressed his hand next to Ratchet's spark chamber. "You ready?"

Ratchet replied by placing his hand very delicately on Ironhide's chamber. With mutual agreement, each bot spread open their chamber doors, revealing their bright sparks from within, orbs of blue and white light glowing strongly in way too indescribable for comparison.

Ironhide was the first to make a move. He slipped his large fingers inside Ratchet's chamber, until they caressed the bare surface of the medic's spark. Ratchet trembled with anticipation as the touch sent a small surge of energy through his wires, and initially, into Ironhide connected on the other end. Finally, the weapon's specialist plunged his hand inside, palming the spark with a force hard but gentle enough to enjoy.

Ratchet immediately fell forward into his hands, moaning loudly. His caressed spark released more waves of energy through his body and into Ironhide, causing the black 'bot to shiver. Ratchet reached his own hand into Ironhide's chamber, pawing at his spark much more delicately. However, even the most simple of touches sent the sensitive spark to flush more electricity through their systems.

The combination of their spark energies coursing through their bodies sent the Autobots to wrap themselves back up in each other, making sure every bit of heat and energy that sparked from their bodies was shared. They continued to squeeze and knead each others sparks, all the while never too hard as to harm the other.

Though it was always hard for Ironhide to be so gentle; his hands had been built to tear enemies apart, calloused with scars, slices, dents, war worn. But at times, he knew the limits of his strength and with Ratchet, his bondmate, he was very careful as to not exert too much force.

Ratchet, however, was the exact opposite. For a good deal of his life, most of his hands went to holding data pads and shaking colleague's; when the war tore apart all he knew and who he previously was, those soft delicate hands were burnt and cut from all the damage he had tended to in his patient's, yet they remained so smooth. The way he fondled Ironhide's spark was perfect; he knew the mech inside and out, figuratively and literally, and knew just where to squeeze and just when to let go.

Rushes of power poured into their wires, along with it memories, thoughts, their very core beings. With every pulse of their spark, something once private became shared.

The first time Ratchet and Ironhide had bonded, Ratchet felt coolant rise to his optics after seeing so much of the torture and pain his comrade had gone through. Likewise, when Ironhide saw, heard and damn well felt the ache of Ratchet's many losses of patients and friends, he felt something in his spark throb with pain; this part had been reserved only to mourn when battles and lives he surveyed and worked alongside were lost.

They had been quiet when they finished, the initial shock of sharing systems slowly thinning out. But neither cried, neither moped for too long, because it was not just each others wounds they had seen, but all their victories, their blessings and their memories of happier times, of better times, of good times. They came to a mutual admiration for their bravery, and understood though one had been designed to take lives, and another to save them, they were very much the same. They were equals.

As they bonded this time, they saw memories and read thoughts they had seen many times over, both pleasant and painful. They learnt to numb themselves from the toxic memories when they imploded in their systems, radically accepting the reality; this thus allowed them to comfortably enjoy the more pleasurable experiences.

Ironhide seeing Ratchet walk a wounded soldier he had pulled back from the very brink of the Pit to his sobbing bondmate and Ratchet seeing Ironhide greeting a fleet of young soldiers telling him how they wanted to be just like him one day--it made them both smile. It made all those horrible memories worthwhile; as long as there'd continue to be these types of results.

As they reached closer to overload, Ironhide growled predatorily as he forcefully kneaded the side of his head against Ratchet's neck, little sparks dancing from the cord connected on the other side of his throat. The soldier's free hand fondled gracelessly at his back, subconsciously being gentle when he reached the scrape along the small of his back.

Ratchet moaned into his partner's arms, one hand stroking Ironhide's bright blue spark, the other heavily petting him up and along his hip. He tweaked the wire connected to Ironhide's thigh, causing an erratic jolt of electric shock to pierce the weapon's specialist armor. The mech mewled like a kitten (surprisingly enough) deep in his throat, hungrily drinking in his bondmate's body and energy. Ratchet bit into Ironhide's shoulder as Ironhide dug his sharp claws above the sensitive plating along his backbone infrastructure. Their vents screamed out steam along with the water, shivering and quaking around their massive forms.

Finally, the amount of energy the sparks had contained finally broke loose of their restraints. Pure and raw spark energy sent jolts of electricity through the Autobots, like tsunami waves. Ratchet dropped his head back, releasing a groan that reverberated throughout the mountain's valley, his entire body glowing as the energy surged through every sinew-like cord and wire. Ironhide dropped forward, his head resting against Ratchet's exposed chest as a howl bubbled from his lips from deep inside his core. The mechs trembled as the water lased violently around them.

A klik later, their bodies, paralyzed with each others power, finally went lax. Their once blindingly bright sparks were now dull with exhaustion, the last bits of energy sending relief, exhaust and dwindling pleasure from one bot to the other. Ratchet and Ironhide collapsed clumsily into the pool, sending a gush of water to hit the dry land around its ring. They stretched out as far as their limbs would allow, legs still intertwined beneath the surface. Their cooling systems sent coolant rushing through their chassises, struggling to contain the amount of heat from both their bodies and the water to a minimum and reasonable level.

For a few moments, neither Autobot said a word. Their vocalizers, like the rest of their bodies, were playing catch up as their systems went back to normal power levels. Ironhide recovered first, one slightly shaky hand gently shutting his spark chamber's door, hiding his mechanical heart and soul once more.

Ratchet tilted his head against the rocks and smiled tiredly. "Who overloaded first?" he inquired, playfully.

"You," Ironhide insisted smugly.

Together the two untangled their wires from each other, connecting them back to their regular ports. Ratchet shut his chest plate, listening to the clasps lock it into place. "You have to admit," he said, swishing around some hot water, "this turned out to be more of a vacation than a scouting mission."

Ironhide lumbered out of the springs with a slight sway. "It would be if I ever got to shoot something," he blubbered. "I mean, out here in the middle of nowhere, no one would see--"

"No."

"It's not like they'd miss one cactus or--"

"No."

Ironhide pursed out his lips. "You're killing the afterglow," he grumbled.

"Better than you killing something," Ratchet smirked.

Ironhide just shook his head, disappointed. He watched as water dripped off his form, looking out into the valley. As his optics scanned the scarce amount of life, he listened as Ratchet continued to bathe in the hot water, humming something old from ages ago.

"It's not much."

Ratchet poked up his head and peered up at his bondmate. Ironhide was gazing off somewhere in the distance over his helm. "It's not much," the weapon's specialist repeated, "but we can claim it for ourselves."

The medic blinked. "Claim it...?" he murmured. "Do you mean...?"

Ironhide dragged a long claw into the ground. "Here. Let's make it ours," he said, too embarrassed to look Ratchet in the face.

Ratchet stared at him thoughtfully before a smile crept back on his face. "All right," he agreed softly, "this'll be our solace."

END

Fluffiest ending ever. This is rare for me these days lawwwwl.

AFTER NOTES:

SCRAPLETS: It's canon! These are little mechanical parasites that are a bit like lice on steroids on a mission to kill, you could say. They basically reproduce like rabbits and spread over a mech's body, eating them away into nothingness. This was seen in a few of the early Marvel comic books and it was revealed that water is the cure for scraplets. Also, harhar, there's another reference to G1 in this story. Did you find it? ;)

BONDING: I didn't want to include anything too human-like, such as kissing and anything involving below the waist. I wanted it to appear more animalistic and raw, focusing less on their humanoid features and more on their robotic ones, thus sparkbonding. Though I don't think the way they interfaced was anything original, really, except I didn't have their sparks join together, but rather release pulses of energy instead.

Ah, really, the mission of this fic was to just write simple, established-'Hide/Ratch' fic. I like stories where the relationship is subtle and just... there, nothing too outrageous and flaunted around.

I hope ya'll enjoyed it. Ugh, pardon the OOCness again. Remember, kids, if you feel like flaming Aunty B, please honor her request and do so at CrowTChickATaolDOTcom!