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[drabble][Transformers Rescue Bots, Chase, Heatwave, G] Little Deuce Coupe
Title: Little Deuce Coupe
Fandom: Transformers: Rescue Bots
Rating: G
Word Count: 705
Characters: Chase, Heatwave
Summary: Takes place during Chief Woodrow. Chase deals with his feelings regarding Woodrow's car.
"You know that thing's just a machine, right? You can glare at it all day and it's not gonna notice."
Heatwave's words just made Chase glower at Woodrow's battered vehicle further from his seated position at the firehouse's doors. "C'mon. Just 'cause that old junker is in your spot doesn't mean you've been kicked out of the place." Heatwave was mostly successful in keeping the amusement out of his voice but Chase still transferred the uncharacteristic glower toward him anyway.
"That 'junker', as you call it, is a 1932 Ford Model 40B Roadster. And while it is in barely serviceable condition, the fact that it has managed to continue function for 83 years on a planet in which corrosive damage to metal is commonplace and humans care little to maintain older equipment is commendable." Chase's reprimanding tone switched to resentment as his optics slid back towards the care. "Though the Department of Motor Vehicles in Maine say antique vehicles must have the same or similarly aged engines in order to be registered as an antique, that does not excuse Woodrow's clear negligence in upkeep. Such as allowing it to leak on my parking spot."
"So, what? You out here on strike until Woodrow moves his car? Or fixes it?"
Chase sighed, "Unfortunately there are no regulations against vehicular leaks, nor is it a severe enough leak to cause emission problems. And there is a far less likelihood of the oil washing into either the ocean or the island's water supply to have it parked inside the firehouse as opposed to outside. What I don't understand is how, despite its internal and external flaws, the Burns family is still enamored by it." When he looked back at Heatwave and the big grin on his face, Chase's panels bristled despite himself. "What?"
"Aw, Chase, are you jealous?" Heatwave teased.
"Is that what you gathered from this exchange?" He asked dryly.
"Are you not getting enough attention?"
Chase knew Heatwave was purposefully needling him but, for once, he couldn't help rising to the bait. "Unlike some, I do not require outside acknowledgment to feel fulfilled in my duties."
"If it makes you feel any better, I still think you're the prettiest car on the island."
"My concerns have nothing to do with vanity!"
Heatwave chuckled at Chase's indignation. "Alright, what's the actual issue? You don't normally get this worked up over a change. Especially a temporary one."
"I," Chase paused, realizing Heatwave was actually asking an honest question and was no longer teasing. It was that pause that made Chase realize he didn't actually know what was bothering him, he'd just felt an overwhelming irritation and let himself get swept up by it. "I do not like the vehicle," he said eventually.
"Why? Because it's in bad condition?"
"In part."
"Because you had to walk back by yourself?"
"It... was not an unpleasant walk," though from Chase glancing away, Heatwave knew it had bothered him.
"Because after walking back on your own you found a rundown vehicle in your spot without anyone bothering to ask permission first?"
Having it laid out in front of him so bluntly like that made Chase's irritation click into place like a realigned joint. "I would have given permission," he said, a little relieved his emotions finally made sense.
"Yeah, but the polite thing to do would've been to ask." Though Heatwave's own irritation was beginning to creep into his voice, it was mild for him. "Especially from people that know we're not machines."
"I'm sure no disrespect was intended."
"Doesn't keep it from being disrespectful. I'll talk to Woodrow about it." At Chase's slightly reprimanding look, Heatwave rolled his optics. "I'll even be nice about it. Maybe. No one gets to make any of my team feel like an afterthought. Now c'mon," Heatwave waved a hand at Chase, "you won't be getting a decent recharge on the driveway and eventually someone's going to wonder why you're out here."
Chase pushed himself upright and walked inside, allowing Heatwave to clap a warm hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Heatwave. I was having difficulty processing my emotions."
"Yeah, I could tell." He gave Chase's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "But that's what I'm here for."
Fandom: Transformers: Rescue Bots
Rating: G
Word Count: 705
Characters: Chase, Heatwave
Summary: Takes place during Chief Woodrow. Chase deals with his feelings regarding Woodrow's car.
"You know that thing's just a machine, right? You can glare at it all day and it's not gonna notice."
Heatwave's words just made Chase glower at Woodrow's battered vehicle further from his seated position at the firehouse's doors. "C'mon. Just 'cause that old junker is in your spot doesn't mean you've been kicked out of the place." Heatwave was mostly successful in keeping the amusement out of his voice but Chase still transferred the uncharacteristic glower toward him anyway.
"That 'junker', as you call it, is a 1932 Ford Model 40B Roadster. And while it is in barely serviceable condition, the fact that it has managed to continue function for 83 years on a planet in which corrosive damage to metal is commonplace and humans care little to maintain older equipment is commendable." Chase's reprimanding tone switched to resentment as his optics slid back towards the care. "Though the Department of Motor Vehicles in Maine say antique vehicles must have the same or similarly aged engines in order to be registered as an antique, that does not excuse Woodrow's clear negligence in upkeep. Such as allowing it to leak on my parking spot."
"So, what? You out here on strike until Woodrow moves his car? Or fixes it?"
Chase sighed, "Unfortunately there are no regulations against vehicular leaks, nor is it a severe enough leak to cause emission problems. And there is a far less likelihood of the oil washing into either the ocean or the island's water supply to have it parked inside the firehouse as opposed to outside. What I don't understand is how, despite its internal and external flaws, the Burns family is still enamored by it." When he looked back at Heatwave and the big grin on his face, Chase's panels bristled despite himself. "What?"
"Aw, Chase, are you jealous?" Heatwave teased.
"Is that what you gathered from this exchange?" He asked dryly.
"Are you not getting enough attention?"
Chase knew Heatwave was purposefully needling him but, for once, he couldn't help rising to the bait. "Unlike some, I do not require outside acknowledgment to feel fulfilled in my duties."
"If it makes you feel any better, I still think you're the prettiest car on the island."
"My concerns have nothing to do with vanity!"
Heatwave chuckled at Chase's indignation. "Alright, what's the actual issue? You don't normally get this worked up over a change. Especially a temporary one."
"I," Chase paused, realizing Heatwave was actually asking an honest question and was no longer teasing. It was that pause that made Chase realize he didn't actually know what was bothering him, he'd just felt an overwhelming irritation and let himself get swept up by it. "I do not like the vehicle," he said eventually.
"Why? Because it's in bad condition?"
"In part."
"Because you had to walk back by yourself?"
"It... was not an unpleasant walk," though from Chase glancing away, Heatwave knew it had bothered him.
"Because after walking back on your own you found a rundown vehicle in your spot without anyone bothering to ask permission first?"
Having it laid out in front of him so bluntly like that made Chase's irritation click into place like a realigned joint. "I would have given permission," he said, a little relieved his emotions finally made sense.
"Yeah, but the polite thing to do would've been to ask." Though Heatwave's own irritation was beginning to creep into his voice, it was mild for him. "Especially from people that know we're not machines."
"I'm sure no disrespect was intended."
"Doesn't keep it from being disrespectful. I'll talk to Woodrow about it." At Chase's slightly reprimanding look, Heatwave rolled his optics. "I'll even be nice about it. Maybe. No one gets to make any of my team feel like an afterthought. Now c'mon," Heatwave waved a hand at Chase, "you won't be getting a decent recharge on the driveway and eventually someone's going to wonder why you're out here."
Chase pushed himself upright and walked inside, allowing Heatwave to clap a warm hand on his shoulder. "Thank you, Heatwave. I was having difficulty processing my emotions."
"Yeah, I could tell." He gave Chase's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "But that's what I'm here for."