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Not a beater
Just a busy bee
House call 
4th-Nov-2008 09:28 pm
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Ratchet: *looking down at Jazz and Bee's berth, where Bee is sleeping and hugging Jazz tightly* ...It's a good thing you can't dent anymore.

Jazz: It'd still be worth it. *wink*

Ratchet: *suddenly amused* Does she have your arms pinned?

Jazz: Yup, turned off the pain receptors though. *nuzzles the sleeping Bee*

Ratchet: *shakes head* So it would be useless for me to ask how you're feeling.

Jazz: I'm happy if that helps! *charming grin?*

Ratchet: So I see. How's the cough? Your processor seems to be working smoothly. *busy scanning*

*something crashes outside* Oh, and by the way, your offspring are having a paintball war in your living room.

Jazz: Mostly just a...*moan* I'll get them when running doesn't kill my chassis.

Ratchet: *tsks with concern and switches scanners* So you are still experiencing pain.

Jazz: Sore from the cough, which is mostly dry. Please don't stick me in the can. *big pouty optics*

Ratchet: *quirks a brow plate* At this point I don't think it would speed your recovery any more. *frowning and rumbling* I wish I knew more about your shell. If you were in a normal one I'd prescribe some WWD40 for that.

Bee: *tightens her grip and snuzzles in her sleep. She hasn't gotten much rest while Jazz has been down*

*Sudden bark of Ironhide's drill sergent voice from the living room, followed by dead silence*

Jazz: ...Ratch? Go make sure 'Hide ain't gonna kill my kids.

Ratchet: Don't be so melodramatic. He won't kill your kids.

*Ironhide roar*

Ratchet: I'll be right back. *gone!*

Bee: *blinking and sitting up* Jazz? What's going on?

Jazz: *coughs and then grins* Don't worry lady love. Ratch has a hand on it.

Bee: ...That's supposed to reassure me?

Ratchet: *returns wearing extra paint* They've taken it outside. Oh, hello, Bumblebee.

Bee: *blink blink*

Jazz: *flop back on the bed* Good. Sorry, I know they act up cause I can't get on them.

Ratchet: *resumes scanning* They act up because they're based on you and Bumblebee.

Bee: Oh like Columbia never cuts up.

Ratchet: *blandly* She is her mother's daughter.

Jazz: *laughs, then goes into another coughing fit*

Bee: *winces and rubs his chest* Hey... take it easy.

Ratchet: *frowning as he listens to the cough and thinks of all the remedies he has that won't work on Jazz's shell* I think you're on the mend. But you'd better stay in bed till further notice. I don't want to see a relapse, or any damage caused by impulsive behavior.

Jazz: *nods and lays back* 'Kay, Doc. Sorry 'bout the trouble.

Ratchet: You've been a very good patient. *nods to himself and pats the smaller mech on the shoulder* Your spark is fine, and your systems are nearly back to their usual levels. I think you're well on your way to recovery.

Bee: *plays a little victory riff on her stereo, then gives a tired beep*

Jazz: *smiles and cuddles his wife* Back to sleep, Bee.

Bee: *blinks at him, not fully assured that he's alright, but then beeps again*

Ratchet: *gently pushes her over and then turns to the door* I'd better get the day's classes started. I can just imagine what the twins are up to by now. Nova's probably got them backed into a corner and missing a few plates.

Bee: *grumbles at the push, but then snuggles Jazz, her optic shutters drooping*

Jazz: *cuddles Bee close to him and kisses her shoulder.* Let's just get some sleep.

Bee: *sighs and complies*
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