(just to let you all know since it's my test results i'm replacing some details with my bot self.)

-3rd Person POV-

It was a normal day at the Autobot base. Bulkhead, Arcee and Bumblebee were picking the children up from school, while Optimus had left to discuss something with Agent Fowler. Ratchet and Blitzspirit were in the lab, the femme busy helping him fix one of the tools that Bulkhead and a visiting Wheeljack had broken in their enthusiastic game of lob. The latter had already gone off in the Jackhammer.

Ratchet's optics watched his apprentice as she bent over the desk, busy inspecting the fixed tool in case she missed something important. Her back was to him, and Ratchet's optics drifted lower to look at her aft. His optics brightened and his face flushed when he noticed her swaying her hips gently. He averted his gaze, surprised with himself that he was ogling a younger femme.

-MY POV-

I felt Ratchet's gaze on me, but I resisted the urge to turn around and look at him. Primus, he did not need to see that handprint on my chassis, courtesy of that rogue, Wheeljack. That aft-head just happened to get a cheeky idea today, and had coated his palm with wet paint before slapping it onto my chassis. Thankfully, Ratchet wasn't around to see it or else I would have wanted to crawl into a hole and die. I stretched, my hips swaying gently as I mentally sang along to one of my favourite earth songs in my processor.

"Blitzspirit?" My optics widened in worry when I heard my mentor's vocaliser fizzle into static as he spoke my name.

"Y-Yes sir? Is there something wrong?" I stammered, turning around and crossing my arms over my chassis, mindful not to show him my new 'paintjob'.

-Ratchet's POV-

"No, it's nothing." I felt my vocaliser click to its lowest setting when I spoke, the words coming out as a deep growl more than a reassurance. 'Slaggit. She doesn't need to know how she feels about you! Honestly, what would a gorgeous femme like her want to do with an old grump like me?' I mentally reprimanded myself, my optics trailing over her frame. Her bright silver optics blinked back at me.

She moved her servos a little, and I noticed some neon green on her neon blue and red striped armour.

"Blitzspirit, what's that on your armour?" My optics narrowed as her own widened.

"N-Nothing, Ratchet!" she squeaked. Noting her posture, I came to the conclusion that she was hiding something.

"Show me. Or do I have to go over and find out myself?" I threatened lowly, subspacing my wrench. Her optics were wild, showing the same desperation I'd seen in patients that escaped their checkups and got caught.

She bolted.

-My POV-

I transformed into my alt mode before speeding all the way back to my berth room, transforming back up and locking the door behind me.

I leant against the door, intakes cycling heavily. Primus, I didn't want him to see it. What would he think of me after that? I shook my helm, coolant tears starting to slip out of my optics and trail down my face at the thought of Ratchet thinking of me like that.

Suddenly, the door opened and I shrieked, squirming as silver servos pressed me to a warm chassis. A helm nuzzled my neck and I arched into the gentle touch.

"Blitzspirit? I-I'm sorry... Sorry that I forced you to do something you didn't want to do..."

I sniffed, my servo moving up to stroke his ruggedly handsome face. "I-It's not y-your fault..." His frame stiffened and I turned my helm to look into his ice-blue optics.

"Who did this to you?"

I squeaked in utter mortification. The handprint! I'd forgotten all about it!

"N-No one..." I averted his smouldering gaze, casting my optics on the ground. I prayed that he would be swift and told me what he thought of me. However, what he said next was nothing of the sort.

"Not Arcee, she not like that... Bulkhead wouldn't dream of hurting anyone... Bumblebee? Too innocent. Optimus? Too noble. So that means..."

I quailed as his optics darkened in fury, turning down my audio receptors at the roar that erupted.

"WHEELJACK! THE NEXT TIME I SEE YOU I AM GONG TO REFORMAT YOU INTO A TOASTER!"

-3rd Person POV-

Blitzspirit hiccupped, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. Ratchet stopped abruptly, his armour panels flaring in worry and muted anger as he saw his femme crying. His femme. He smiled softly, liking the sound of it. Lifting her up bridal style, he carried her over to her berth and set her down. She clung to his servo, hanging onto it like it was her only lifeline.

"D-Don't leave! P-Please..." The medic's spark broke to see her like that, and before he could think it through, his lips were on hers. His glossa flicked over her lips, requesting entrance which she granted. Their glossas danced intimately, each exploring their counterpart's mouth. Ratchet soon realised that he wanted more of her intoxicating, sweet taste, and found himself kneeling between her spread legs while her arms were wrapped around his neck. Breaking apart, they stared into each other's optics.

"I love you."

Both bots shocked themselves that they had said what was on their processors at the same time. Ratchet smiled, swooping down to recapture Blitzspirit's lips and she responded immediately. This time, she broke the kiss, a tranquil smile on her face making Ratchet's spark pulse quicker.

~~~The End~~~