[He doesn't sit, but approaches as she's putting things away. Settles a hand on her shoulder. She's trying to settle him down, but he's gotten her so wound up. It's not unusual for her to try and diffuse a situation by being as blunt as possible, but he does feel a little guilty for putting her into this aggitated state.
To be honest, Ratchet didn't know what he was going to say. He's never been one for comforting words, unless it's about someone's recovery. So it's almost good that he gets distracted from his words.
Now that they're here, somewhere out of the way, somewhere they can talk, he's trying to clear his head, sort everything out. Now he's considering how this is Arcee. It's her voice, of course. Her memories, her attitude. Even, now that he looks at her, really looks, he can see a similarity in the general build. She looks like she could sneak around, do a few acrobatic leaps, and smack someone unsuspectingly in the face.
He supposes, if he uses his imagination, he could see where some of the more human features come from. Her eyes, too, still have that bright blue, and, looking close, some of that purple as well. Still, even though he knows he's talking to Arcee, just as she knows she's talking to Ratchet, to see her now like is--much like everything else about this trip--jarring.
To say nothing of himself. He hasn't even seen a mirror yet, and he can't do any self-diagnosis, get any readings or feedback that he normally would.
His hand tentatively slides from her shoulder down her arm, marveling at the change in sensation--not smooth metal now, but fabric and skin. Her fingers are still long and flexible and almost dainty, especially compared to his own hand holding hers.
In Ratchet's mind, it's all scientific curiosity and wonder. At least to set aside his anger, his concern. It's not his intent to be weird about her, but, c'mon, she's been through the whole human body thing, too.
On the other hand, to Bearmon, it looks like something else. He's turned his cap around, pulling the rim of it down over his eyes, backing out of the room.]
I-I'll give you two some space...
What? [He blinks, looking back up, startled out of his reverie. Very confused for a moment before--
Her hand is immediately dropped, and Ratchet is also immediately out of her space, hands up.] What, no no no, that's not--Bearmon, get back here!
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[He doesn't sit, but approaches as she's putting things away. Settles a hand on her shoulder. She's trying to settle him down, but he's gotten her so wound up. It's not unusual for her to try and diffuse a situation by being as blunt as possible, but he does feel a little guilty for putting her into this aggitated state.
To be honest, Ratchet didn't know what he was going to say. He's never been one for comforting words, unless it's about someone's recovery. So it's almost good that he gets distracted from his words.
Now that they're here, somewhere out of the way, somewhere they can talk, he's trying to clear his head, sort everything out. Now he's considering how this is Arcee. It's her voice, of course. Her memories, her attitude. Even, now that he looks at her, really looks, he can see a similarity in the general build. She looks like she could sneak around, do a few acrobatic leaps, and smack someone unsuspectingly in the face.
He supposes, if he uses his imagination, he could see where some of the more human features come from. Her eyes, too, still have that bright blue, and, looking close, some of that purple as well. Still, even though he knows he's talking to Arcee, just as she knows she's talking to Ratchet, to see her now like is--much like everything else about this trip--jarring.
To say nothing of himself. He hasn't even seen a mirror yet, and he can't do any self-diagnosis, get any readings or feedback that he normally would.
His hand tentatively slides from her shoulder down her arm, marveling at the change in sensation--not smooth metal now, but fabric and skin. Her fingers are still long and flexible and almost dainty, especially compared to his own hand holding hers.
In Ratchet's mind, it's all scientific curiosity and wonder. At least to set aside his anger, his concern. It's not his intent to be weird about her, but, c'mon, she's been through the whole human body thing, too.
On the other hand, to Bearmon, it looks like something else. He's turned his cap around, pulling the rim of it down over his eyes, backing out of the room.]
I-I'll give you two some space...
What? [He blinks, looking back up, startled out of his reverie. Very confused for a moment before--
Her hand is immediately dropped, and Ratchet is also immediately out of her space, hands up.] What, no no no, that's not--Bearmon, get back here!