Taking Five

Log Title: Taking Five

Characters: Daniel, Sparkplug, Spike

Location: Repair Bay - Medical Wing - Autobot City

Date: December 18, 2012

Players: Bzero (Sparkplug), SpikeWitwicky (Daniel, Spike)

Summary: Sparkplug and Spike take a break from their work in the repair bay.

As logged by Sparkplug - Tuesday, December 18, 2012, 9:08 PM

Repair Bay - Medical Wing - Autobot City

 * This medlab is carefully maintained by Blizzard, and is therefore usually spotlessly white and clean. Well-stocked medical cabinets line the walls, and tools and spare parts are hung in strategic places. The room is large, even by Autobot City standards, allowing people the size of Skyfire to move around easily. Various tools are available so medics of all shapes and sizes can work on any patient, no matter the differences in scale. Medtables are carefully arranged around the room to handle as many patients as possible; more are in storage in case there is a rush. Usually, there is at least one medic on hand, even if it is only a lowly intern, or the grumpy Lugnut, who seems to always get stuck with the longest shifts.

Spike is at his desk, seemingly talking to what appears to be a major news network within Sparkplug's hearing range. Spike finishes the interview, "All I can tell you is that the Autobots stand ready to help the community of "Newtown" - but right now, we believe the best approach is to let the families grieve privately. Thank you - "

Sparkplug wanders over to have a listen. His Helperbot follows, Santa hat bopping as it moves.

Spike takes his earpiece out and heads back to helping Sparkplug with whatever new project he's come up with.

Sparkplug rasps, "How's it going?"

Spike nods to his pops, "Good - sorry - had to interview with BBC." He looks over at the helperbot - trying not to look at the shiny bobby santa hat, but failing. "I'm ready to get back to work."

Sparkplug frowns, looking around -- seeming to have lost track of what he was doing. The helperbot brings him the tool he was using, subtly reminding him.

Spike looks at his dad. Secretly, he has to admit - he's proud that his dad can see his college dropout son handle interviews with...almost no assistance. "Ready to get back to work or do you want to take 5?"

Sparkplug rasps, "Uh... maybe take five. I'm waiting on getting a few parts back from Ratchet."

Sparkplug looks at the to-do list Helperbot keeps updated for him, which keeps him on-task when his mind wanders. "How was the, uh, BBC?"

Spike nods and starts making coffee. He looks at the helperbot. He nods to the helperbot. "Thanks! - Take 5 as well." - Crosscut's barb about Spike wanting a slave for his dad still digs at him, so he's been making a concerted effort to treat the helpberbot just like any other Autobot.

Spike sits down and shrugs. "It was OK. They were asking about the flood relief as well as the Connecticut tragedy."

Sparkplug nods, frowing. "God, that. Terrible. Simply terrible."

Spike nods. "I know. I said the Autobots will be there - but right now... I'm guessing if the community needs help, they will ask - and we will respond. But in the meantime, I think it's best that we just step back and let those families grieve."

Sparkplug nods again. "I heard. And I think you're right -- the last thing those families need is the spectacle of giant robots butting in, or worse, the Decepticons getting involved because we're involved."

Spike smiles faintly. "Thanks - "

Sparkplug rasps, "I can see why Prime wants you to help in these matters."

Spike pours some coffee for Sparkplug - just like old times. "Well, I still feel like I don't know what I'm doing sometimes, and there are still times I find myself looking over my shoulder quickly for Crosscut."

Spike takes a sip of coffee. "Get your shelves built?"

Sparkplug rasps, "You'll do fine. And not yet -- still getting settled in, really."

Spike says, "Anything we need to change in your bathroom or your own room?"

Sparkplug rasps, "Heh. My bathroom is fine. It's these parts bins here in Auto City -- who organized them, the Junkions?"

Sparkplug cocks his head towards the Helperbot. "If it wasn't for Robo-Gofer, here, I'd spend all day just lookin' for basic components!"

Spike says flatly "That'd be me." He adds "Human tools - one side. Autobot tools - the other." Spike says, "It... it's really pretty simple. Air-based equipment there - cars - there." He points around. "I just... I like First Aid's approach."

Sparkplug makes a face. "Well, I'm sure I'll get used to it, but I liked the Ark's system better."

Spike says, "Yes...I know - but this is a city now... and I was sick of Ratchet griping when human tools got in his 'Autobot' tools."

Sparkplug chuckles at their cantankerous boss.

Spike looks at Sparkplug. "Heyah - can you help today with my Level-4 core repair prep? Primus, February is going to come sooner than I expected."

Sparkplug half-grins. "I might need a little brushing up together, but I'll be happy to help my son with his homework. It'll be like old times!"

Spike says, "Buster's been... kinda of hiding out lately. Has he talked to you at all?"

Sparkplug rasps, "Uh, yeah. He's been by. He asked me about school an' the problems he's been having with his car, 'though I don't think he liked my answers."

Spike closes his eyes and mutters "shit..." He adds "I was supposed to check on that! I was about to, then Daniel..."

Sparkplug rasps, "It doesn't sound good. Hoist is going to bring it in -- from the sound of it, Buster's been driving it without coolant."

Speak of the devil, as the two are talking, Daniel lumbers in with a backpack practically bursting. He's heading to his quarters, but his face is locked on his Android. Gone are the days of chipmunk cheeks and cheesy 'Autobots Rule!' t-shirts. He spots Spike and Sparkplug and gives a short greeting for both. "Heyah Dad, Heyah Grandpa" - before heading into his room.

Spike grins. "Heyah Kiddo, how was sch-" Daniel cuts Spike off, still texting "It was all right - " before almost disappearing into the human quarters.

Sparkplug chuckles. "Danno's growing up -- again."

Spike looks at Sparkplug and grins. "He's really glad to have you here...honest. He's just... Well - communication's not his strong suit right now - unless it's with his friends or his math club. I just hope he takes up fishing again."

Sparkplug smiles. "That would be nice. Any word on moving the City back to Lookout Mountain?

Spike shakes his head. "I got SOME pull with Prime, but moving Autobot City because of a fishing destination probably wouldn't fly."

Sparkplug chuckles. "I don't think that was the Prime reason," he allows.

Spike says, "Anyway - Buster's car - I PROMISE I'll look at it tonight."

Sparkplug and Spike are in the repair bay, taking five while Sparkplug waits on new parts from Ratchet. Sparkplug rasps, "OK. I'll let you know when Hoist brings it in. Apparently it was dead in the dunes somewhere."

Spike says, "In all honesty, that car should have probably been in the junk yard a year ago. It's been on borrowed time for a loooong time."

Sparkplug grins. "Eh, I dunno. I'm sure between the two of us we could keep it runnin'. If he's blown the head gasket, we might have some practice rebuilding plain ol' old-school human technology."

Spike sighs and pulls out his iPad like tablet and hands it to Sparkplug. It has all of the information for Ratchet's next test for Spike for him to be on the same level as First Aid for medic. "Yeah - maybe we can multitask at the same time."

Sparkplug rasps, "Sounds good. I don't think I'm going to get those parts in from Ratchet tonight, so Striker's going to have to wait 'til morning anyway."

Spike sends a radio transmission.

Spike says, "How did you go about studying YOUR level 3s?"

Sparkplug rasps, "To be honest, it wasn't studying things on a tablet."

Spike 's shoulders slump slightly. "Well, I'm not about to rip out an Autobot's core and crush it. Look, no offense, but Ratchet's tests are a helluva lot more different - he asks me to cite references - repeatedly. I can't tell him 'my gut says do this' - even though that's my first instinct!"

Sparkplug chuckles. "Yeah... the level threes are hardest, because hands-on experience is so limited."

Spike doesn't seem to be laughing. Ratchet is genuinely a sadist. "It's not just that. Even for my Level 2s, he asked me to reference EVERY decision - and I couldn't use 'that's what we did with 'x' in the past."

Sparkplug rasps, "Huh. Wow. He must be getting crotchety in his old age. Or he liked me better."

Spike frowns slightly at Sparkplug. "Probably right on both ends. But I know he does NOT like me - "

Sparkplug looks skeptical. "What are you talking about? He likes you just fine."

Spike laughs. "Yeah right - that's why he gave Buster a subscription to Harpers and the New Yorker and he gave me a subscription to People and Newsweek."

Sparkplug rasps, "Don't be such a birdbrain. He just knows that the two of us are more down-to-Earth and Buster is, well... special."

Spike frowns. "I read the New Yorker too!" He adds "No - it's like - I passed my level 2s and he didn't say anything. Any repair job I do has yet to come back without a remark or 3 of how he would have done it better."

Sparkplug rasps, "What, you need to be coddled?" Sparkplug shakes his head. "Is that how I raised you? You know Ratchet appreciates your work."

Spike 's eyes widen. "I'm not... NO - Jeez dad, I don't need to be coddled - it's just... "

Sparkplug rasps, "It's just, what? The Autobots give an alien youth literal power of life or death over their injured breathren, and what - that's not enough?"

Spike frowns. "No! Primus - It's just - I keep hearing of how I screwed up from Ratchet and Crosscut - I'm not whining - I relish that feedback. But - every now and then, I'd like to know what I'm doing right - "

Sparkplug shakes his head in supreme 'kids today' resignation. "You want me to talk to him? It's been a little busy around here lately, from what I've heard..."

Spike frowns, realizing he got stuck in a Rodimus Prime needy moment. "No - No - I can take it."

Spike raises a brow. "So, you've NEVER felt that way before? Been constantly told how much your work needs improving and you didn't ever think 'what am I doing right?"

Sparkplug rasps, "Well, then. I will take it upon myself to make sure you know what you're doing right around here. I suppose maybe when I was your age I needed more re-assurance. I'll keep that in mind." Sparkplug gives his son a teasing grin.

Spike grins. "No - then it wouldn't be you. Besides - you couldn't go six hours without giving me a 'better' suggestion."

Sparkplug rasps, "Well, when you're as good as your old man, you won't need my suggestions."

Spike retorts "Who knows, there may be a field or two where I may have a higher test score than you - maybe - "

Sparkplug rasps, "Sure. Lollygagging, perhaps."

Spike grins. "Lollygagging?"

Spike says, "Is that like from the '20s?""

Sparkplug grins in return, "Look here, whippersnapper..."

Spike grins. "OK... you MAY be knocking on the door of the '50s now."

Sparkplug rasps, "I'm going to be knocking on the side of your head if you keep givin' me lip, boy." Sparkplug chuckles at his own mock threat.

Spike grins. "Heayh - I may be even able to show you a cool technique or two for core reconstruction." Spike adds "That's what young folks say when something's neat in today's word. They say 'cool.'" Spike says, "If something's REALLY nice, they say it's 'rad'."

Sparkplug snickers. "Somehow, I think if I want modern slang, I'll turn to Daniel, not you."

Spike 's smile fades, knowing how true that statement is. Suddenly, his communicator goes off, Megan's crying can be heard. Spike lets out a sigh. "I think karma just bit me in the ass for that last smarts remark."

Sparkplug chuckles. "OK. Go take care of things, and I'll be waiting in the lounge with a fresh pot of coffee and a fresher review of these study materials." He holds up the aPADD.

Spike nods. "Thanks, dad - "

Sparkplug rasps, "No problem, Spike. Don't worry -- I'll make sure you're ready to take on ol' Ratchet at his own game." Sparkplug clasps his son on the shoulder, and goes to set up the lounge for a long night of studying.