First Transformer's fic ever posted please be nice. I wrote this on total impulse, plus Flamespark and Cloudy are mine. G1 era as that particular era is the one I was first introduced to by a dear freind (Thanks the strange princess!). Ratchet and everyone else isn't mine though. Ratchet's been feeling distracted lately, due to a certain stubborn, opinionated femme…
Ratchet watched her intently. The way she moved intrigued him. To the point of distraction, actually. The pink and white femme may have had a sharp tongue to most, but Ratchet knew she truly had a soft spot for Flamespark, to the point of considering the younger femme her adoptive sparkling. The motherly side of this fierce, Amazonian esque femme intrigued him. How could she be so fearsome one nanoclick and flip right around and be so kind and gentle the next nanoclick? To boot she seemed to have a special hatred for mechs, if her usual bickering with Ratchet was anything to go by. It was driving Ratchet slagging CRAZY! The silver spirals on the side of her helm didn't help his distraction, swaying and bobbing as she moved. She moved confidently, as if she couldn't set a servo wrong. The unique pink air sacs that composed her favorite weapon pulsated slightly and waved along as she, moved busily around HIS med bay. Slaggit, he shouldn't be this distracted by a femme!
"Ratchet? You look… Spaced out, as Carly says. What in Primus is up with you?"
Ratchet blinked his optics to refocus. What was he doing? He wasn't normally this wrapped up in one bot, be they mech or femme. Had to be energon deficiency oor need of recharge, but Ratchet knew he had just gotten a fresh dose of energon a few clicks ago. Admittedly he hadn't gotten a good recharge since Cloudburst had come to the base, his inner optics full of images of her... Of interfacing with her. Frag. This is what comes of a mech not interfacing in….how many vorns has it been? Ratchet inwardly wondered.
"Cloudburst. Right." Ratchet busied himself with tools, uncomfortable with the silence that stretched after that statement. Oh, how he hated how this femme threw him off his game!
A few hours later...
He heard slight metal feet moving toward him, but he seemed to be frozen. Ratchet couldn't move a step. He recognized the femme's tread, after all, her favorite place to be was in the medic bay where there was usually (if old Megs hadn't gotten a bug up his blaster~then she tended to avoid the med bay unless called for) only one mech to bicker with. Warm smooth hands curled in his, hers so tiny, so delicate; he could crush them on accident. Curse of a medic, having delicate hands, but Cloudburst's servos were smaller than his own.
Hard to believe this femme was the one who had taken out Megatron's optic, not once but twice(same optic each time).
Slender digits, her fingers, perfectly formed for both creation and destruction. For healing and hurting. Her cotton candy colored chassis drew his attention; the whole of her frame delicately swooped and molded, wrought with a fine attention to detail only Primus could have imagined much less wrought. The curves of her air sacs only drew pleasure; they were soft and strange to the touch. He looked at her helm finally.
Serene cerulean optics gazed back at him. Primus, if only he had a shred of that steadiness right now. His hand servos were jittering slightly as Cloudburst's fingers link with his. Her mouth, a delicately formed thing, quirked into a wry smile. The golden cloud knob on the top of Cloudburst's helm, presumably giving her name coupled with her unusual weaponry, fascinated him for reasons only Primus at the moment knew.
Her lips were on his quickly, her glossa gently probing for entrance. In his shock, he acquiesced, allowing her glossa to explore his mouth. Her slender upper and lower arm servos wrapped around his shoulders as far as they would go. After a few moments, he pulled back, confused beyond saying.
(A/N)I know it's short, but I wanted it that way. Even the cliffie ;) If asked enough it might just speed up updates. If I can update soon, I will.