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Cute! Tiny extra

Here’s an extra from Cute! that doesn’t fit in the main story:

Ratchet had been ignoring the quiet scrape of tiny pedes for awhile.  He hoped that if he stayed still and quiet Optimus would give up and go back to his own berth.

In hindsight, Ratchet was an idiot.

There was a sniffled. Then a quiet sob.  He knew – he knew – that Optimus was fine and that he would go back to his own berth in a moment and fall back into recharge.  Optimus had been a brilliant manipulator when he’d wanted to be – he’d charmed the senators, flirted with the military leaders, and bedazzled the Lords.  This was just an extension of that.  The skills that had won him funding and troops were now being put to use gaining the prime spot in Ratchet’s berth and two-thirds of the pillows.

“R-ratchet?” came a small voice.  “I’m scared.”

Frag it all.

Ratchet rolled over and squinted down at the lump of sparkling sitting on the floor.

“Optimus,” he started, working to keep his voice level.  “You have a very comfortable berth on the other side of the room.  It has blankets and pillows and if you press the blue button it will rock you back to sleep.  I suggest you –“

“Can I sleep with you?”

“Optimus,” he tried again, voice flat with the effort to stay calm, “we’ve talked about this.  You are perfectly safe, you don’t need an extra cube, the blankets are soft enough, it’s not too warm in here – you can sleep in your own berth.”

Two blue orbs of light widened in the dark as Optimus gazed up at him.

“But I’m all alone.” Dear Primus, the lip was even trembling. That wasn’t even a Cybertronian trick, it was purely human – mostly Raf – and it should have no effect on him.

“No you’re not.  I’m right here.”  Ratchet offlined his optics.  Please go back to sleep.

“But I’m down here.”

“Go get in your berth and then you’ll be there.”

“Can you come?”

“Optimus.”

Sniffle.

Ratchet waited, counted slowly to 50 and then turned his helm to look again.

Slaggit all, the optics seemed to have gotten even bigger.

“Please?”  They inched forwards.

“Urgh.”  Ratchet scooted over and lowered his arm so Optimus could climb up.  He did so quickly and with a surprisingly cheerful field for a sparkling that had been crying moments ago.  Little liar.

Once up, Optimus quickly snuggled himself down between Ratchet’s other arm and his torso, pulling all three pillows to him as well as the thick blanket.  

Wretched sparkling.

He laid his helm down on Ratchet’s arm and pressed his back up tightly against him.  He always used Ratchet as a pillow, so why did he steal all the pillows?  Thin arms wound around his arm so Optimus could hold his new pillow in place. 

“Comfortable?” Ratchet said.

“Mmmhmmm,” came the blissful reply.

“Oh good.”

“Mmmm.”  Ratchet could feel the sparkling’s field evening out into the gentle waves of recharge.

Damnit.  He raised a servo and stroked over the small, round helm. Optimus beeped contently like a much younger sparklet would.  He snuggled his helm against Ratchet’s arm and hugged it closer.

Wretched, wretched sparkling.