Shuttle Longevity – Docking Boon“Well, this is it, Tracer," Smokescreen whispered as he caressed her cheek with his actuators. “Stay safe."
Tracer, unable to speak, only offered Smokescreen a small nod in response. What else could she do? He had a need to fulfill his duty and she was stuck on a ship unable to help.
The tension, uneasiness and anxiety seemed to melt away the second he kissed her chevron. Tracer let out a low contented sigh as she leaned in a bit closer.
“I’m ready. Let’s go,"
Her hands fell away as he backed away and turned toward the shuttle. He was ready. He was going. Tracer placed both hands over her chest, directly over her spark and watched. He stopped and glanced back but there was no smile.
Tracer returned
Smokescreen’s nod and wave. And then he was gone.
Glued to the deck-plating the scout could only stare. She wasn’t sure what she was waiting for…would he come back out? Would he change his mind and not go at all?
No. He had to go.
Tracer let her arms drop to her sides. There was no reason to stay. She turned around and stared back toward Wheeljack’s lab. The pain was intensifying and she wasn’t sure if it was due to the withdrawal or the broken spark.
Whichever it was due to she wanted it to stop. The pain had to go.
_____
A small smile grew on Veneer’s face as he looked over at his companion. When he caught himself staring the nurse turned his optics back onto the shuttle’s entrance. Although he wanted nothing more than to stand there and commit every millimeter of Blindside’s frame to memory, it just wasn’t the time. He could only hope that they would both return and none the worse for wear.
A quite settled between the two. There were the voices of the other mechs moving and working about but the absence of any sound from either one of them was simply painful.
He needed to put an end to this torture. Veneer turned to face Blindside, “Side, I just…” He stopped as he watched Blindside place his box on the floor and then stand back up. A quizzical look crept onto his visage for just a brief moment.
It was when he was in Blindside’s arms that he knew what his dear friend wanted to get across.
Veneer relaxed into the embrace, as well as he could, and smiled. “I know,
Side. I do too,” he whispered. Outward expressions of affection they were things Blindside avoided. Veneer has always known him to be fiercely private. He’d even dare to describe him as slightly shy.
Veneer smiled inwardly at the thought.
He shut off his optics when he felt the gentle peck to the top of his head. Yes, this was very unlike Blindside, but it was not unwelcome.
And then just as quickly as it had begun it was over. The tactician pulled away, albeit reluctantly picked up the box and smiled at the content nurse.
"Alright, Vee. Where should we set down our load?"
Veneer had just opened his mouth when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s okay,” Axle said to the confused nurse. With a gentle pat to Veneer’s shoulder plate the field medic turned his attention to Blindside. “I can take that for you,
Blindside. You should get to you r seat. We’ll be taking off once Magnus gets here.” He carefully slipped the box from Blindside’s grip and began to move into the shuttle.
Axle stopped and looked over his shoulder and smiling at the two bots he said, “Let’s go, Veneer. Ratchet’s waiting.” He glanced back toward Smokescreen who was already headed toward the shuttle’s hatch.
"What's happening you two? How we rollin'?" Jazz greeted the approaching Blindside and Veneer.
The nurse sent a broad smile in
Jazz’s direction before the saboteur made his way back into the shuttle.
Veneer nodded to the black and green medic before turning back to Blindside. “I’ll see you soon.” He smiled, stared for a moment and then jogged off after Axle. As the two disappeared into the shuttle Veneer threw a series of questions out concerning the Fallen, his Heralds and his role in helping out.