[Ratchet had a habit of marking Newt's messages as read--with how many he says and how many of them are what Ratchet considers to be inane questions, it just became easier for Ratchet to wait and answer them all en masse, when he had a few spare minutes. This was increasingly rare, so it was a little while before Ratchet was able to get to Newt's emails.
To his credit, he managed not to drop the datapad he was staring at when the contents of Newt's most recent messages finally penetrated. Instead, he set it down calmly, walked slowly out of his medibay, then immediately folded into his alt mode and screeched out towards the nearest road, cranking his siren once he hit traffic.
He made it in record time, but he wasn't sure if he was fast enough--he transforms, almost recklessly fast, to come in through the Cybertronian-sized garage door, yanking it down behind him and taking in the scene with widening optics.]
Newt. [His voice is almost a hiss, popping with faint static.] What are you doing?
no subject
To his credit, he managed not to drop the datapad he was staring at when the contents of Newt's most recent messages finally penetrated. Instead, he set it down calmly, walked slowly out of his medibay, then immediately folded into his alt mode and screeched out towards the nearest road, cranking his siren once he hit traffic.
He made it in record time, but he wasn't sure if he was fast enough--he transforms, almost recklessly fast, to come in through the Cybertronian-sized garage door, yanking it down behind him and taking in the scene with widening optics.]
Newt. [His voice is almost a hiss, popping with faint static.] What are you doing?