raisedbymoogles (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
raisedbymoogles) wrote2016-02-13 08:09 pm
raisedbymoogles) wrote2016-02-13 08:09 pm
Entry tags:
Here, have a crossover.
Wrote this during our Horrible Week Of No Internet and just remembered it existed. Sooo, posting it. :D
*
The pint-sized cacophony spilled into the hallway outside the garage, and Ratchet set his toolbox down with a grunt. “Amazing how such tiny organics can make as much noise as a couple of our kind in a brawl,” he commented, his frown of disapproval piercing through the open door.
That look would have been enough to stop any Autobot from Optimus Prime on downwards in his tracks - were Optimus foolish enough to get caught up in a brawl, of course - but what these little warriors lacked in height, they also lacked in caution and sense. Sparkplug Witwicky, whose garage was playing host to stranger beings than Autobots of late, saw the expression on his friend’s face deepen in ire and sighed. “Be right back.” He heaved himself to his feet with a grunt and strode into the back, where no customer was allowed - where no humans were allowed save for the small handful the Autobots and Sparkplug trusted.
“Hey!” he shouted, spotting the source of the noise immediately.
Raphael and Donatello, the pair involved, ignored him completely in favor of doing their level best to pummel each other. At least until Sparkplug strode over and hoiked them both up by their shells. “Both of you, knock it off,” he barked. “No fighting in my garage!”
“Make him give it back!” Donny demanded, thrusting his hands out at the object Raph held.
“I found it first!” Raph retorted, holding it as far away as he could.
“Did not!”
“Boys.”
The new voice was quieter than Sparkplug’s had been, steady, accented - and effective, stopping both brawling brothers in an instant. Sparkplug set them down on their feet to face their father and the music at once.
“Father-“ Donny burst out, clearly trying to plead his case before Raph could.
“This is not how we solve our disagreements,” Splinter interrupted him in the same even tone. “Especially not in a place where we are guests.”
Raph gave him a blank look. “Yes it is, we’re ninjas.”
“Well, when evil ninjas steal your - toy,” Splinter told him with far too much gravity for that phrase, “you may punch them. Within our family, we solve our problems with words.”
Raph and Donny gave each other looks that clearly communicated yeah right, but between Splinter’s level, calm stare and Sparkplug still looming over him they could do nothing but capitulate. “Trade you for the skateboard,” Donny offered listlessly.
“You fixed the skateboard?” Raph, by contrast, was all interest, and that was enough to put a little animation into Donny’s manner as well. The two of them raced off side by side, quarrel completely forgotten.
“No skateboarding indoors!” Splinter called after them, then shook his head. “Kids.” He glanced up at Sparkplug then, who’d relaxed his ‘drill sergeant’ stance. “I’m sorry you had to intervene, Witwicky-san. I will endeavor to keep them quieter from now on.”
Sparkplug let out a breath. There was something uncanny about Master Splinter - not dangerous exactly, although he’d seen what the humanlike rat (ratlike human? He wasn’t sure on that point.) was capable of, but something that hit the same instincts in him as Optimus Prime did: great respect, and at the same time the urge to nurture.
“Are you kidding? As far as I’m concerned you’re a miracle worker,” he answered with a breezy grin. “I only had the raising of one - you’re raising four, and all of ‘em are good little hearts barring the occasional dustup. I dunno how you do it.”
Splinter’s tail waved slowly, curling around his ankles. “Well,” he allowed, a faint smile gracing his furry face. “It is easier now that we are not alone.”
*
The pint-sized cacophony spilled into the hallway outside the garage, and Ratchet set his toolbox down with a grunt. “Amazing how such tiny organics can make as much noise as a couple of our kind in a brawl,” he commented, his frown of disapproval piercing through the open door.
That look would have been enough to stop any Autobot from Optimus Prime on downwards in his tracks - were Optimus foolish enough to get caught up in a brawl, of course - but what these little warriors lacked in height, they also lacked in caution and sense. Sparkplug Witwicky, whose garage was playing host to stranger beings than Autobots of late, saw the expression on his friend’s face deepen in ire and sighed. “Be right back.” He heaved himself to his feet with a grunt and strode into the back, where no customer was allowed - where no humans were allowed save for the small handful the Autobots and Sparkplug trusted.
“Hey!” he shouted, spotting the source of the noise immediately.
Raphael and Donatello, the pair involved, ignored him completely in favor of doing their level best to pummel each other. At least until Sparkplug strode over and hoiked them both up by their shells. “Both of you, knock it off,” he barked. “No fighting in my garage!”
“Make him give it back!” Donny demanded, thrusting his hands out at the object Raph held.
“I found it first!” Raph retorted, holding it as far away as he could.
“Did not!”
“Boys.”
The new voice was quieter than Sparkplug’s had been, steady, accented - and effective, stopping both brawling brothers in an instant. Sparkplug set them down on their feet to face their father and the music at once.
“Father-“ Donny burst out, clearly trying to plead his case before Raph could.
“This is not how we solve our disagreements,” Splinter interrupted him in the same even tone. “Especially not in a place where we are guests.”
Raph gave him a blank look. “Yes it is, we’re ninjas.”
“Well, when evil ninjas steal your - toy,” Splinter told him with far too much gravity for that phrase, “you may punch them. Within our family, we solve our problems with words.”
Raph and Donny gave each other looks that clearly communicated yeah right, but between Splinter’s level, calm stare and Sparkplug still looming over him they could do nothing but capitulate. “Trade you for the skateboard,” Donny offered listlessly.
“You fixed the skateboard?” Raph, by contrast, was all interest, and that was enough to put a little animation into Donny’s manner as well. The two of them raced off side by side, quarrel completely forgotten.
“No skateboarding indoors!” Splinter called after them, then shook his head. “Kids.” He glanced up at Sparkplug then, who’d relaxed his ‘drill sergeant’ stance. “I’m sorry you had to intervene, Witwicky-san. I will endeavor to keep them quieter from now on.”
Sparkplug let out a breath. There was something uncanny about Master Splinter - not dangerous exactly, although he’d seen what the humanlike rat (ratlike human? He wasn’t sure on that point.) was capable of, but something that hit the same instincts in him as Optimus Prime did: great respect, and at the same time the urge to nurture.
“Are you kidding? As far as I’m concerned you’re a miracle worker,” he answered with a breezy grin. “I only had the raising of one - you’re raising four, and all of ‘em are good little hearts barring the occasional dustup. I dunno how you do it.”
Splinter’s tail waved slowly, curling around his ankles. “Well,” he allowed, a faint smile gracing his furry face. “It is easier now that we are not alone.”