Konami Code: MORE POKEY!

~~~

“Are we ready?” asked Wheeljack cheerfully, pushing the tray over to the berth Ratchet was laid out on.

“Just get on with it!” the CMO growled. Of all the days for the Protectobots to get called out on field duty, it just had to be the day he was scheduled for his annual examine. And with Swoop still in training that only left…

“You ought to be a bit nicer to your attending physician, Ratch,” came the chirp as Wheeljack's head fins flickered.

Ratchet groaned. “You're not a doctor, Jack. You're an engineer.”

“Hey! We both know that I'm a certified field medic.”

“Oh, you're certifiable all right…” Ratchet offlined his optics with another groan. “Just make this quick, okay?”

“Sure thing, doc!” Giddily, Wheeljack hooked up the diagnostics, inadvertently jamming one of the plugs into a very sensitive port and causing Ratchet's optics to flash back on as he gasped loudly.

“Erm…Hello! Must've hit a soft spot, huh?” Wheeljack chuckled, head fins flashing in a grin.

The CMO tried to glare, but the pleasant feedback pulsing into him softened its venom. He settled back down, letting the engineer continue examining him. Things were going along routinely until…

“Hmm…what's this thingie?” Ever the scientist, Wheeljack gave the odd bundle of cables and plating an experimental poke with the exploratory probe.

Barely able to bite back an ecstatic moan, Ratchet stiffened at the sudden burst of sensation.

“You alright, Ratch?” he asked, moving the probe idle up the bundle.

“Ffff-fine!” The medic was squirming a bit now as Wheeljack ran the probe back down again.

“You sure?” He glanced over at the readout, head fins blinking with concern at the sudden spikes in Ratchet's energy field. “Maybe I oughta stop…”

Ratchet sat up on his elbows, glaring hotly at Wheeljack. “You stop and I swear to Primus the next time you blow yourself up, I will rebuild you into a septic tank.”

“…right. More pokey, then!” Eager to please, Wheeljack flicked the probe quickly up and down, up and down, then changed to a rapid left-right, left-right motion. He was fascinated by Ratchet's smugly pleased look, and flowed up with a stroke and then three sharp taps on the bundle. With the medic's engines purring happily, Wheeljack gave the bundle another tap, stroked the probe up and jammed it into an empty port. He was immediately rewarded for his efforts with a very, very joyful scream as Ratchet's systems hit the point of overload.

Gently, Wheeljack pulled the probe out of Ratchet and eyed it thoughtfully. “Gotta remember this one…” He never noticed that the medic had come back online until Ratchet had him pinned down to the berth, the evilest of grins on his face.

“Your turn, Jack…”