Chapter Text
“Miss Darby.” The Lancia greeted in his low timbre as he sat parked in her driveway, the last fiery orange rays of the dying sun reflecting wonderfully off of his paint. He must have taken the time to let himself be polished. She briefly let herself wonder who he allowed to buff him to a shine or if he did it himself? But his passenger door clicked and swung open for her, cutting off her thought process. Such a gentleman. Gentlebot..?
June Darby smiled and drew her overcoat more tightly around her shoulders. “Hello Wheeljack. I thought it might be you picking me up.” She gathered her dress and slipped into his passenger seat.
“My idea. Since mister sunshine don't exactly ‘blend in’.” The passenger door closed with a soft click and the seatbelt beside her gave a pointed rattle. “No, he doesn't. Though, you definitely stand out yourself, handsome.” She noted with a smile and buckled her seatbelt as he fired up his engine and backed carefully out of the driveway before pulling off.
“Flattery don't charge these batteries, miss.” He replied smoothly, but the amused tone in his voice was unmistakable and she couldn't help but laugh.
Soft music played across his radio, quiet enough for a conversation to be had if either of them initiated it, but loud enough to fill the silence and make it comfortable.
“You know, I haven’t been out on a date in years, let alone put on a dress.” She hummed after a while, reaching down to touch the silky fabric of her dress, her brain still half expecting to feel the sturdy, durable material of her work scrubs. “I think we’re all in the same ship here. Wars don’t really leave a lotta time for dating. But you look good. Should wear red more often” He replied. “Thank you… And I can imagine not. You all seem so busy with this war, It’s hard to picture you guys going out on something as silly as a date.” She relaxed against his seat and turned to gaze out the window, hearing his sound of assent. The sun had finally set and dusk was upon them. No stars had appeared yet, but the streetlights were coming on one by one.
He still hadn’t told her where they were going, but he seemed to have a destination in mind as he rounded the onramp onto the freeway, engine growling as he accelerated to freeway speeds and maybe a little past that with the way he split through what little traffic there was.
As his tires consumed the miles with ease, she allowed her mind to wander, thinking back to when this whole date idea had surfaced.
---------
It had been a quieter day around Omega One and June had stopped in to avoid another quiet night at the house, which had become the norm for her once Jack had started hanging around the Autobots. While she didn’t want him to feel like she was doting, it felt nice to feel included every once in a while, even if she was doing the ‘including’ herself.
Which is exactly what she had done when she’d started talking to Ratchet. At first the medic was short and almost rude in his replies when she’d started asking him things and generally trying to initiate conversation; however, being an RN, grouchy doctors were her specialty and she’d gladly accepted the challenge. It had taken a few weeks to get to where she could talk to him and get him to respond without coming off as rude and cold.
This day was no exception. June had been asking him various simple questions about cybertronian anatomy, specifically about their circulatory systems, and he had been doing his best to explain it and help her find comparisons to that of humans so she could understand. As they compared vessels and fuel hoses, a distress beacon lit up the comms. Being the only mech currently on base, Ratchet leapt up from his place at the workbench and set to work locating the beacon and preparing groundbridge initiation.
“Wheeljack to Omega one. ...mmnnh… Need a hand out here. Ratchet, you there?” Wheeljack’s voice echoed from the control center. He sounded like he was forcing his words through gritted dentae.
“Ratchet here. Groundbridge protocols initiated, prepare for transport.” Ratchet’s frigid tone had returned, but June could detect the heavy undertones of worry. Wheeljack never called for help unless it was bad.
With a pull of the heavy lever, the groundbridge whirled to life, bathing the its surroundings in it’s greenish light. In less than a minute, Wheeljack’s unique silhouette emerged, limping his way through. Though, something seemed… off… June found herself squinting as he emerged fully from the bridge, but it wasn’t until Ratchet shut off the bridge that she realized what was wrong. Still oozing hoses and severed wires sparked from Wheeljack’s right shoulder joint, the right limb completely missing. Well, maybe not ‘missing’ per se, as he lifted his left servo to show off the missing limb clutched in it.
“..heh...get it? I needed a...hand..?” His smile was weak, but still smug as Ratchet glared holes in his helm.
“Not another word. Get your aft into the med berth now before I take your arm and beat you over the helm with it.” Ratchet hissed. Wheeljack must have been extremely low on fuel, not putting up any fight as he trudged over to flop down on the med berth.
“I don’t even want to know how this happened unless it’s imperative that I know.” Ratchet snatched the limb from Wheeljack’s servo and set it on the bench beside him. It took him a breem or so to gather his supplies, but he was quick to set to work, clamping off fuel lines and temporarily capping off wires so he could clean up the shoulder joint for limb reattachment. An energon drip was connected to the port in the crook of Wheeljack’s left elbow joint and a medical HUD was plugged in somewhere she couldn’t see, showing his sparkpulse rate, fuel levels as well as other fluid levels, coolant, oil, etc.
June swore she could feel the relief and conflicting anger oozing from Ratchet’s massive frame as he worked. She stood up from her spot and walked across his workbench to find a place closer, but still out of the way.
“Loss of limb is much easier to repair in cybertronians than in humans… It can be done, but most of the time the patient ends up losing their limb permanently.” She spoke up and Ratchet startled and swore, seeming to have forgotten she was still there.
“A-ah yes. Well… That is the difference between biometal and human tissue. Reattachment of the same limb or even other limbs are relatively easy, if a little tedious.” He gave a pointed stare back at his patient, who lifted his only servo to wave tiredly at them. “Whereas human tissue tends to be far more...finicky.”
June nodded, simply watching the medic work at first. It was interesting to watch the similarities and differences in how injuries were handled. While the differences seemed strange, the similarities seemed even stranger. Strange enough that she quickly realized she could almost predict which tool he would reach for next, and when he went to reach for his hose clampers, not dissimilar to a huge pair of curved hemostats, she realized he might not be able to reach them from where he stood and picked them up to press them into his servo, like she would with one of her normal doctors during a surgery. He paused his work to stare at her for just a moment, before grunting a quiet “Thank you” as he turned back to Wheeljack’s shoulder. June simply smiled and folded her arms. It was something small, but she still considered it a victory. Getting a “thank you” from the old medic was pretty high praise.
Deciding to insert herself where she thought she might be useful proved to be the right thing to do. She managed to correctly predict the tools he needed more often than not, and when she guessed incorrectly, he began to point out the correct one he needed and what he was using it for.
With the edges of the severed metal ground down smoothly and all connectors, hoses and wires clamped and ready to be reattached on both limb and torso, he started in on reconnecting Wheeljack’s right arm.
Wheeljack kept an eye on the both of them as they worked, not speaking (as per Ratchet’s growled request) and not moving, but definitely watching. Observing this almost casual thing between Ratchet and miss Darby. By Ratchet standards, he was being downright friendly with her.
Huh.
---
Between Ratchet and nurse Darby, Wheeljack was once again the proud owner of TWO arms, in the span of about two joors. Ratchet had even taken the time to paint over whatever fresh welds and patches he’d placed, leaving his patient looking as good as new.
“Now, you’ll have to take it easy on that arm for at least an earth Solar cycle. The welds are still fresh and need time to cool and set before you go back to doing Primus knows what you were doing before to get your arm ripped off in the first place.” Ratchet instructed, his tone firm, but far lighter than it was when he first started. The feeling of a job well done did wonders for the medic and the tired satisfaction in his EM field reflected that.
“Thanks doc… and you too, miss Darby.” Wheeljack glanced back at June with a wink, who was wiping her hands on her now dirty scrubs. She glanced up and blushed pink, brushing a hair out of her face and leaving a black smudge across her right cheek. “Oh, don’t you start in too. I’ve told Ratchet and I’ll tell you too, just call me June.”
Ratchet huffed and rolled his optics and Wheeljack only smiled back. “‘Course. I’ll catch ya both later.” He gave a casual, two fingered salute before transforming into his alt-mode and heading off.
---
“So… When ya plan on telling her?”
Ratchet gave a funny twitch and shot a glare over his shoulder from where he worked.
"I take it your repairs are holding up well." He replied coolly, acting like he hadn't heard the question, but the faintest flicker of fear in his EM field gave him away before he could mask it effectively.
"Holding up perfectly. Better than ever." Wheeljack played along, casually moseying over until he was very much in the old medic's 'bubble'. The resulting tinge of irritation in his EM field was amusing to the wrecker.
"Yes, well...good." Ratchet gave a nod and turned back to the wiring harness he was working on.
Wheeljack's usual smirk slowly vanished and became something closer to a disapproving frown.
"You're gonna have to come clean soon and talk to her about this ‘thing’ you have for her. She doesn't have a clue what’s going on in that processor of yours and she can't read you like I can. On top of that, last I checked humans can't pick up on EM fields." He pointed out, voice low and stern. The last thing he wanted was his medic getting his spark broken because he didn't take the chance to speak up.
The old medic stiffened and his grip on the wire strippers tightened with an audible creak. "I’m taking care of it.” He mumbled, his field going cold in a way that Wheeljack knew he’d closed himself off. Talking was no longer an option. He was going to have to handle this his own way.
“If you say so.” He replied, leaning in to plant a little peck against the side of the medic’s helm before making his way off to think of a plan. Ratchet was going to handle this the way he usually handled his own problems. Bury them and pretend they don’t exist until they either go away or fester like rust. June was still very likely in the dark with no clue about any of this…
“Guess it’s up to me.”
---
“Wheeljack? Is that you?” June stared at the parking spot where her usual commuter had been parked that morning and where the exotic sports car was now sitting.
“The one and only.”
She gave a little laugh and put her hands on her hips, “How long have you been waiting for me? And what on earth did you do to my car?”
“How about I tell you on the way. Hop in.”
“Oh, uh...sure. Which...side?” She hesitated, seeing as she was already on the driver’s side.
“You wanna drive?” She swore she could hear the brow raise in his voice.
“Well, I… Uh… I don’t know if I trust myself with that kind of horsepower.” She looked up and glanced around to make sure none of her coworkers had stepped out to see her talking to a ‘car’.
“It’ll be fine. C’mon chica.” The driver side door opened beckoningly and she hesitated for just a moment before slipping into the driver’s seat and situating herself. The seat didn’t need much adjusting for her to comfortably depress the clutch pedal and jiggle the shift knob. Reverse was a bit difficult to find at first, but once she did, the shifter slipped perfectly into reverse and she backed out and pulled out of the lot.
“See? Told ya.” The Autobot insignia on his steering wheel lit up with every word.
“Oh hush, I’m trying to concentrate!” She reprimanded with a smile as she bit her lip. His only response was a low, amused chuckle, the insignia on his wheel flickering merrily.
It was definitely stressful, as he was significantly more responsive and had at least double the horsepower her usual ride did. But it was also fun. The second they hit the highway, he took control long enough to show off a bit of his horsepower, going from 65 to at least 125 fast enough to feel the g force press her back into the seat. Adrenaline spiked through her body and she gripped the wheel tightly until he finally let off the gas and decelerated to a much more comfortable speed of about 73, letting her have the controls once more.
“You know you don’t have to hold so tight.” He pointed out a few seconds later, sounding ‘oh so innocent’ and more than a little entertained. She could hear the smile on his face and soon enough, she found herself grinning as well. He thought he was so funny, didn’t he? Well, she was just going to have to do something about that…
A few minutes passed and they approached the exit she usually took to go home. She could feel him anticipate the turn and start to lean into it. She bit her lip to hide the grin threatening to cross her face and with a little jerk of the wheel, corrected him back and before she could think better of it, downshifted and shoved his gas pedal to the floor. He audibly grunted in surprise and his engine roared as she accelerated, watching the tach brush into the red before shifting. Her heart thrummed in her ears and the scenery became a blur, the cars around them becoming splotches of color flashing past.
She was finally forced to slow when they came up on a bit of thicker traffic, letting off the gas pedal and letting him coast back down to a more reasonable speed.
Several minutes passed as she took the next exit and looped back. He’d been unusually quiet during that time and she couldn’t help but feel pleased that she’d rendered him speechless.
“You know you don’t have to be so quiet.” She chided with the same air of innocence he’d worn earlier.
“Uh huh. Sure. Now tell me somethin’, miss thing. Where’d you learn to drive like that?”
She laughed as she turned off on the exit that would take her home. “I had a porsche back during med school, given to me by my father as a gift for getting accepted into school. Very sporty and very fun to drive. Of course I had to sell it when I had Jack, since you can’t fit a baby seat in the back of a porsche.”
“Right. Do you miss it?” He asked
“Of course. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about that car. But I don’t have to money to afford it now. Maybe once Jack’s grown and moved out I’ll think about it.” She shrugged and he hummed a sound of acknowledgement before seeming to fall into thoughtfulness for a good couple minutes
“S’just been you and the kid for a long time, huh? Whatever happened to mister Darby?” He asked casually after a while.
“That’s a bit of a long story… But at this point I feel like it was for the better that he did leave. I’m...not so angry about it anymore.” She shrugged.
“Fair enough. You ever think about tryin’ dating again?”
“Why? You have someone in mind?” She teased.
“I just might, if you don’t mind someone of my...species.” He responded, watching her teasing smile disappear and a look of confusion replace it.
“Wait, really? I was just joking… I-I haven’t really thought about it, since I've had to work full time to support myself and Jack for so long. I didn’t think anyone would be interested in someone who’s so busy like me. Who is it? You said it was one of your...kind and I know you aren’t on speaking terms with any decepticons… So it’s one of the autobots...” She pulled up to a light, glancing down to the glowing blue insignia on his steering wheel.
“Agree to a date and I’ll tell ya who.”
“Huh?? That’s not fair! Come on. It’s someone I know, right?”
“Yeah, you know ‘em. But that’s all you’re gettin’.”
“If I guess and I guess right, will you tell me?”
“Nope.”
“Stubborn…” She frowned and watched as the light turned green, easing off the clutch and taking off. “Okay fine… I’m free this next Friday night.”
“Cool. I’ll let him know.”
“Tsk..! Wheeljack!”
“What?”
“You’re supposed to tell me who it is!”
“Oh, right. Well, he’s gonna kill me anyway for setting this up without telling him. But uh… it’s Ratchet.”
“R-Ratchet? But I thought… Isn’t he with you? I thought you two were an item..?” Her confusion only grew by the minute. Every question he answered seemed to only raise more questions.
“We are. Have been for a little while now. Surprised you picked up on it. He’s always doing everything he can to keep it on the down low.”
“But then...why…?”
“Because if I’m readin’ him right, and I know I am, he’s got it bad for you. And that has nothin’ to do with what he and I got. I know he still loves me and...y’know, vice versa. I figure it can’t hurt nothing to give it a shot.” His reply was simple. June’s brows creased and she didn’t reply, wanting to think for a moment. What did she feel for Ratchet? She supposed she would consider him good looking for a 25 foot tall robot/ambulance. But then there was Wheeljack. Who cared enough about Ratchet’s wellbeing to try and play matchmaker. How did he feel about all this? Was he really not jealous at all? Did he not feel even a little….left out?
By this point, he’d taken over driving and quietly pulled off the road and into her driveway, the idle of his engine almost bashfully quiet.
“You can say no.” He added after a minute.
“I’ll go, but with one condition.” She finally answered, gathering up her purse and other items.
“What condition?”
She unlatched the seatbelt and exited the driver side door, letting it click close behind her as she approached his front. “I’ll go on this date...but only if you come too.” She gave a little smile.
“Deal.” His response was almost immediate.
“Good. Pick me up at 7:30.”