[G1] Fits of Fury

Everyone thought Ratchet had the monopoly on who cursed the most creatively when he was angry, but clearly, no one had ever heard Perceptor let a piece of ill-behaving machinery have it.

Some of those insults Brawn was quite sure didn’t actually make sense. But he guessed it didn’t matter since the words kept spilling from Perceptor’s lips, faster than he could track. He caught maybe every fourth word or so.

The funniest part was that Perceptor’s field didn’t even come across as agitated. Sure, it was a bit prickly, but Brawn had felt it far more furious when Percy caught Wheeljack in the middle of a flubbed calculation.

Brawn blinked at the scientist and clutched the cubes he’d brought a little closer. Should he interrupt or…?

Perceptor half-snarled, spat another insult at whatever it was that was misbehaving, and spun on a heelstrut away from it. Like one might if they were sulking. He huffed with every stomp of his feet.

“Wow,” Brawn said, hoping he wasn’t tugging on the tail of the tiger here. “What did that thing ever do to you?”

“That thing,” Perceptor said with an amazing amount of venom in two words, “had the indecency to incinerate every last one of my samples. Do you know how long it took me to collect them?”

“Awhile, I take it.”

“A very long while,” Perceptor corrected with a sniff. “There are some samples I can never retrieve again.”

“Oh, I see.” Brawn dared shuffle a little closer, into the furthest edge of Perceptor’s field. “That sucks. Want me to beat it up for you?” He looked at the machine and felt a grin coming along. It looked like it could take a beating and them some. Could be fun.

Perceptor blinked at him before he huffed the tiniest of laughs. “No, I still need it. Perhaps Wheeljack can fix it. But if he can’t, I may take you up on that offer. It would certainly deserve it.” He shot a glare in the machine’s direction.

Wow, that was kind of… adorable actually.

“Just let me know. Energon?” He offered the cube.

Perceptor cycled another ventilation, his armor smoothing down. “Thank you, Brawn.” His field calmed further, which proved that even a nice gesture helped sometimes.

“You’re welcome.”

Yep. Adorable.

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