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“I still can’t believe they let you use that thing in here,” Rivet said amazed, as Ratchet hauled his old Lava Gun back, the barrel still glowing red hot and magma dripping from it.
He shrugged. “Eh, to be honest - there’s not much they don’t let me use in here anymore,” he looked around at the carnage he’d ensued on the target-bots on the Galactic Ranger’s shooting range.
There was cooled and hardened magma everywhere, overlaid with splashes and gushes of glowing still-hot lava. More than half of the bots were buried under blobs of rock, parts and bolts scattered everywhere. There was even some magma that he’d managed to get on the ceiling .
Ratchet sidestepped around the magma that hadn’t yet fully cooled, using a few of the swingshots placed around the shooting range to swing across back to the range’s entrance. Already cleaner bots were skittering onto the scene, some with little pickaxes and mining drills to try to clean the slag off of the floor.
“Are you serious? They just - let you use whatever weapon you want in here?” Rivet said with wonder in her voice and a hungry look in her eyes to the battleground.
Ratchet chuckled. “Well… not everything,” He leaned in close to her and lowered his voice. “Wouldn’t want to pull out a Ryno or something in here. Interdimensional hero or not, illegal weapons are still illegal.”
Rivet looked at him with a smirk. “Don’t want your precious vintage Suck Cannon collection to get confiscated?”
Ratchet barked out a laugh. “Definitely not!”
She watched him look over his Lava Gun with a critical eye, probably checking it for damage. She knew that weapon was one of the oldest in his arsenal; he’d been slowly letting her see more and more of his vintage (and illegal) parts of his collection. This one hadn’t been her pick, but he’d insisted on using this one today, and she didn’t regret letting him show it off.
There was a sharp cracking sound and various metallic panicked squeaking, and a large chunk of hardened magma came crashing down from the ceiling behind them.
Well, maybe he showed it off a little too enthusiastically.
Rivet walked over to the holo-deck showcasing weapons that the Galactic Rangers allowed their members (and esteemed guests) to rent out. While she was allowed to use all her own weapons, she loved coming here to try out something new. For all their camaraderie, Ratchet was pretty possessive over his personal collection, particularly the older weapons. She didn’t blame him - he had a lot of history with his arsenal from what she had been able to piece together so far.
Most of her own weapons didn’t last that long, unfortunately. Her oldest weapon was her treasured Omnihammer, her only weapon that she’d managed to reclaim from her initial stay at Zordoom Prison. All the rest of her meager weapon collection had been confiscated and destroyed, and the most she had been able to afford and maintain after that was her Blaster Pistol and Enforcer.
It was easy to say she’d been a bit overwhelmed when Ms. Zurkon had generously connected Ratchet’s account to hers back when the Dimensionator fiasco started, and suddenly she had access to weapons she’d only been able to drool over.
“See anything you like?” Ratchet’s voice cut into her musings, and she looked to the side to see him peering over her shoulder at the select screen on the weapons deck.
“There’s a lot here that looks familiar,” She hummed, flicking through the list. Buzz Blades, Warmonger, Darkstar Fission Tether… all weapons that were the same or similar to ones she’d used already.
“If it’s not broke, don’t fix it,” Ratchet said, tilting his head to the side. She nodded, agreeing.
She zeroed in on one that looked promising, opening up the weapon’s description on the list. “Predator Launcher? That sounds fun!” She oohed over the info-graphic that showcased the weapon's multi-lock-on feature.
“And they say I’m destructive,” Ratchet chuckled, shaking his head.
“What can I say? I’m an explosions kind of gal!” Rivet cheeked, tipping up a shoulder.
She was just about to press the select button when heavy footsteps came near, and both Lombaxes looked to the doorway to see a Valkyrie squeeze through the frame, frowning in their general direction.
Rivet squinted at the Valkyrie as Ratchet stiffened for a moment before relaxing. “Helga! Long time no see! How’s it hanging?”
Helga frowned deeper at them. “Hanging has been good, yes. As good as can be when you are the one having to keep all the scrawny maggots in this building in shape,”
Ratchet nodded, pulling his lips in. “Mmhm, yeah. Okay, well - what brings you here?” He grinned a bit tightly. Rivet automatically tensed in reaction to his body language - while it didn’t seem he was overly distressed by seeing this Helga, he sure wasn’t enjoying the exchange. And if he wasn’t fond of her, Rivet found herself immediately reflecting the sentiment towards this robot.
Helga breathed in a loud, fake breath through her nose, puffing her chest and raising herself into what was probably supposed to be an intimidating stance. “I hear you were in the building and wanted to assess. It has been a long time since you have been in training. Skipped out on many sessions.”
Ratchet winced, his tight grin turning into a grimace. “Ah, yeah! I mean - I appreciate the topping up, but I’ve been - y’know - retired from hero work for a long time!” He spread his hands wide, looking up at Helga appealingly.
She seemed unimpressed. “Yah. Retired.” She said flatly, and her gaze flicked over to Rivet who’d been standing just behind Ratchet the whole time. Rivet stiffened up, tail going straight.
“This is new Lombax, yes? Heard much of her,” Helga said, and Rivet couldn’t hide her frown. Heard what, exactly?
Before she could ask, Helga suddenly loomed forward over the Lombaxes, nose scrunched as she stared down at Rivet. Rivet stood her ground, ears back as she glared right back up at Helga in defiance. She felt more than saw Ratchet shift beside her, his hand raising up with a half-shuffle in front of her before he stopped the motion suddenly.
Helga snorted in Rivet’s general direction before leaning back. She looked down at Ratchet with disdain. “Well, at least you found yourself a female who is in better shape than you.”
There was a lot to unpack from that one sentence, and Rivet couldn’t decide on a single emotion but decided ‘offended’ was good of a pick as any. Ratchet sputtered, ears stiff with his own offense.
“Wh - what exactly is that supposed to mean!?” He said, standing ramrod straight with his fists curled.
Helga scoffed. “If you are to impress this female, you have much to improve!” She crossed her arms, nodding her chin down at Ratchet. “Look at you. You have always been scrawny, but you’re nothing but a pathetic twig now. Shameful!”
Rivet was this close to bringing out her hammer and showing this Helga the business end of her weapon. Who was she to just barge in here and start insulting Ratchet, of all people? Let alone herself - and ignoring whatever the robot meant by ‘impressing’.”
Ratchet was reaching the end of his patience. Rivet could tell by the way the end of his tail was flicking side to side in irritation. “Look, Helga. You can just take your opinions and shove them right up your -”
Helga cut him off, voice booming. “That is why you are to come train immediately!”
Ratchet scoffed, shaking his head. “What? Helga - I don’t need - “
The Valkyrie just steamrolled over him again. “You do! You need training - muscles! I am amazed you managed to survive this last cataclysm as you are, the woman behind you did much of the heavy lifting as I can tell from her biceps,”
Rivet was just confused. Was she being insulted, or praised right now? It was hard to tell from Helga’s tone of voice.
Ratchet just clapped a hand to his face and dragged it down with a groan. “We don’t - we don’t have time for this. I booked out the shooting range for us the next few hours, and I don’t want to waste the time doing your stupid old ‘training sessions’.” The quotation marks were strong in his voice.
“Stupid? Old! How dare you - my training range is top of the line!” Helga yelled, arms on her hips. “You have missed much. Grind rails, vertical leaps, more shooting things, more danger, more cardio! More fitness!” She finished off with a pose, robotic biceps flexed.
Ratchet’s pose went from exasperation to mild curiosity. Rivet couldn’t believe he was actually contemplating what this Helga lady was saying to him. “Ratchet, what - “
“Wait a sec, Rivet,” Ratchet said, holding out a placating hand. He looked up at Helga with a raised eyebrow. “The training room has actually been updated? How recently?”
Helga harrumphed. “Few months ago. Old routine was too easy, not enough recruits getting injured.”
Ratchet hummed, placing a hand on his chin. He turned to Rivet. “Hey, I know we booked out the range, but… want to try out the VR Training room? It’s been a while since I’ve checked it out and,” He paused, glancing over to Helga. “I wouldn’t mind putting Helga’s words where her mouth is.”
Rivet scrunched her nose, crossing her arms to consider. While she really, really wanted nothing to do with Helga ever again - she could easily see the shift in Ratchet’s mood over the subject. He actually looked excited over the prospect, ears and tail perked.
And really, a chance to really shove it to this Helga lady was an enticing thought.
Rivet sighed, shrugging her shoulders. “If you think so. You know this place better than I do, and you know I do love a good grind rail.”
Ratchet grinned widely, turning back to Helga. “Alright, we’ll do some training. Wait - do we need to get Clank and Kit for this?” He asked the Valkyrie.
Helga shook her head. “Nyet. Most recruits do not come with their own talking backpack. Grindboots, and your weapons will suit you. Now come!” She said, turning about-face and stomping out of the shooting range.
Ratchet raised a finger to his chest. “I’ll tell Clank and Kit where we’ll be - they should be back from the Library soon and I don’t want Clank to miss this.” He pressed the button on his communicator and had a short conversation with Clank - he and Kit were both already in the building and would meet them at the VR wing.
Rivet frowned a bit. “This is a bit - weird, I mean. Are you sure you wanna do what this Helga lady wants you to do? You don’t need any training - you’re just as skilled as I am.” She said, and she meant it.
Ratchet smiled warmly at the compliment. “Thanks, Rivet. I appreciate it, but it has been ages since I’ve seen the training sessions, and I am a bit curious - “
He was cut off with a loud yell from down the hall. “Maggots! Stop your yapping and hustle!”
They both rolled their eyes, sharing a smirk before jogging out the door and down the hall to catch up to Helga.
The Shooting Range wasn’t very far at all from the VR wing, and they soon saw Kit and Clank waiting by the door. Kit spotted them first and waddled over, burdened by a giant book under each arm. “Oh, Rivet! I’ve found so many wonderful things to read, I can’t wait to show you!”
Rivet chuckled. Reading wasn’t her idea of a good pastime, but Kit reveled in it, and often read aloud to her while Rivet was working on something. It worked out surprisingly well for them - Kit could spend time sharing what she was learning with Rivet, and Rivet could pick up on a thing or two while keeping her hands busy, using Kit more like a radio than anything else.
“I’m glad you’ve found something new, but right now, Ratchet and I need to make this Helga lady eat her damn words,” She said, cracking her left knuckles as the hydraulic door to the VR room slid open. Helga was already inside, arms on her hips pompously as the four heroes walked into the room.
“Helga, you are looking well,” Clank said pleasantly, and Helga only scoffed at him.
“Don’t bother, Clank. I tried being nice,” Ratchet said, brows furrowed a little and ears stiff in determination. “We’re just here to kick some ass and set some records.”
Helga laughed. “This we shall see! No one has survived the new training routine without injury - I look forward to seeing you pathetic weakling broken on the ground!”
Ratchet scowled while Rivet let out a little growl, tail puffed. She really, really didn’t like this Helga lady.
Ratchet turned to Rivet, focusing on her. “Hey, how about we make this a bit more fun,”
“...I’m listening,” Rivet hemmed, ear perked in interest.
“We make this a competition. Not only try to beat the record but beat each other to the finish line,” Ratchet said, eyes shining in excitement.
Ratchet had Rivet at the word ‘competition’ - but she needed a bit more incentive. She cocked her hip with her arms crossed. “And what does the winner get besides bragging rights?”
“If you beat me, you get a pick of one of my old weapons. Yours to keep,” he said, and Rivet was already vibrating with excitement at the prospect. “If I win -”
“Deal,” Rivet said even before Ratchet finished the ante, already plotting her plan of attack. Whatever the course threw at them, there was no way she wouldn’t win. Her pride wouldn’t let her.
Ratchet turned to Helga. “Alright, set it up.” He said, and Helga nodded and began pressing buttons on the console.
Clank walked up to Ratchet and tugged on the edge of his glove, getting his attention. “Ratchet, while I am very confident in yours and Rivet’s abilities, I would very much like to see you come out of this unscathed,” His tone was light, but he had a worried angle to his optics. “You haven’t done one of these courses alone before,”
Ratchet knelt down to Clank’s height. “Hey, don’t worry buddy. You know me - safety is number one!”
He had a rakish grin on his face that obviously did nothing to soothe Clank’s concern. “Yes, I do know you. That is why I am asking you to be careful,”
Ratchet laughed, but whatever he said next was lost to Rivet as she felt a similar tug on her own glove. She jumped a little, but turned to see Kit looking up at her with her own brand of concern.
“Um, Rivet. Anything I could say Clank has already said, so…” She fidgeted, the books she’d been carrying placed on the floor at her side. “So instead, I’ll just say - go get ‘em!”
Kit tried a little encouraging arm pump, and it was so cute and awkward that Rivet couldn’t help but giggle. “Aww, thanks Kit. Your cheering is all I’ll need to win!” She said, winking with a flexed arm for showmanship, earning a giggle from Kit.
“Alright, maggots. The course is set. I look forward to seeing your demise,” Helga said, and Rivet and Ratchet looked at each other before nodding.
Rivet followed Ratchet to the glowing telepad, stepping onto it and feeling the familiar stomach-swooping sensation of being teleported. The room they were placed in was vast and round, the domed ceiling pulsing with blue lines. Suddenly there was a shimmer in the air, like a glitchy heat wave, and the training course materialized around them.
Rivet hadn’t seen anything like this before, her eyes round. The course started out in a straight dash corridor, an obvious start line in front of them and a countdown timer floating in the air above them.
Rivet watched as Ratchet’s entire demeanor changed. She wouldn’t describe it as tense - more like a coiled spring, knees bent and hands outstretched, leaning forward in preparation to dash at a nanosecond’s notice.
It was a pose she was very familiar with - it was his battle pose.
Rivet felt a thrill roll through her, her energy rising to match his as she settled into her own stance. Both Lombaxes stood ready and poised, eyes locked onto the timer as it counted down.
“May the best Lombax win,” Ratchet said beside her, eyes never leaving the timer.
“Thanks! I intend to,” Rivet sassed, earning a chuckle from Ratchet.
The timer sank into the single digits. Both Lombaxes stood ready.
3
2
1
The buzzer was loud and obnoxious, but it was a background sound as both Lombaxes launched into motion.
The course started out simple enough, stretches of corridor long enough to require straight out sprinting, with sharp angles to mess up your speed. The gaps in the floor were easily traversable - long jumps and tumbles at the end to keep the momentum going.
Then a very tall vertical leap climb came into view.
Ratchet got to it first, and even through her focus Rivet was amazed at his movements. She considered herself a good wall-jumper, but Ratchet looked like he hardly touched the walls, leaping from side to side in perfect timing and almost no hang time.
She couldn’t let herself get out-classed though, so she put her all into it, and only just barely came in behind Ratchet as she scrambled over the top. The top of the climb dropped into an abyss with the telltale blinking of a slingshot section hovering away. Both Lombaxes latched onto a slingshot at almost the same time and hurled themselves over the edge.
Here, Rivet managed to pull ahead. She pulled off an extra risky long-drop, just barely managing to catch a slingshot a gap ahead before her tether got out of range, and skidded to a stop on her feet on the far side. Ratchet ended up having to stumble and roll, losing his momentum.
Rivet let out a little “Ha!” of triumph before dashing forward, hearing Ratchet huff in amusement as he scrambled to his feet in hot pursuit.
She veered around a corner, having to suddenly drop to her stomach as a laser pinpointed her forehead a split second before a blaster shot went off where her head had been.
Ratchet slid around the corner, blaster already in hand, and the training bot was in pieces before it could even lock on to him. Rivet hissed, getting to her feet and pulling out her own blaster as the room turned into a disco hall of laser lights.
The next handful of moments was a blur of explosions, lasers and lots and lots of dodging. Rivet was no stranger to hordes of bots intent on turning her to Zanifarian cheese, but even this was stretching her limits. A blur of yellow caught the edge of her eye, and she had to slow down for a moment to gawk.
The only word she could use to describe Ratchet was lithe. He flipped, somersaulted, slid, dove - never stopping, never slowing. He vaulted over shots backward in perfect arcs, his tail and ears enhancing his silhouette as he took out bot after bot, moving forward through the hall ceaselessly as very few of his shots missed.
She never really had a chance to fully see Ratchet in action on the field, always having to divide and conquer with him during their battles. Even in the final fight with Nefarious, they’d been split up, only able to really catch glimpses of each other through the chaos.
Now though, she could really appreciate his obvious experience and skill. A blaster shot screaming past her ear tips brought her back to reality, and she took out the offending bot before hop-jumping over the piles of wreckage Ratchet was leaving in his wake.
She caught up to his pace quickly, and together they finished off the remaining bots in almost no time. They took only a moment to nod at each other before the race was back on, and they dashed into the next section.
Moving platforms and conveyor belts, complete with mashy spike-plates. A classic, obviously, and they launched themselves into it. While Ratchet was fast and quick, Rivet wanted to show off a little. Risky, she knew, but a single eyeball to the hydraulics controlling the smashy-spike plates told her it was nothing in comparison to what she had to do on Torren IV.
She heard Ratchet call out to her as she ran onto the conveyor belt with abandon, feeling a spike-plate come down over her head. Ears tucked, arms stretched high, she braced as the plate came down. Being small had an advantage, Rivet was able to fit between two spikes while her knees quivered under the sudden shock. The hydraulics whined and shivered, and Rivet felt herself losing position as the conveyor belt kept moving under her.
With a war cry, she gripped the hydraulic plate - her right hand crunching into the weaker alloy - and ripped the plate right off the hinge with a yank.
She tossed the plate over the edge of the conveyor belt, and risked a look back at Ratchet behind her.
He stood there limply, eyes completely round as he took stock of what she’d just done.
Rivet couldn’t help but give him a cheeky wink and take advantage of his stupor to pull ahead, not risking another fancy move like she’d just done and instead managing to get two whole spike-plates ahead of Ratchet before she heard him scrambling to catch up.
The next room was full of yet more bots, but these ones each had huge hammers for limbs instead of blasters. A testing shot to a bot proved it was impervious to artillery. That suited her just fine, a fizzle of warping space noting her weapon change from blaster to Omnihammer.
She’d taken out a good chunk of the bots in the room when she heard Ratchet catching up, dashing into the battle. Rivet thought it’d be just another of the previous bot-riddled room, the two of them working to take them out, when she realized something with dawning horror.
Instead of trying to manhandle his way through these bots, Ratchet was being swift and precise, taking out kneecaps and elbows of the bots to slow and debilitate them with his smaller Omniwrench instead of opting for all out destruction like Rivet was. This allowed him to weave and dodge around the bots, making a close beeline for the room’s exit.
“Oh, you son of a Blargian frack-monkey!” She cursed, immediately abandoning her tactic and taking up his. She wasn’t able to be as precise with her hammer as his weapon, but through pure determination and raw strength, she was just able to catch up with him as he was exiting the room.
The next section of the room was a cavern, with nothing but a long, winding spaghetti mess of grind rails fading into the darkness. Ratchet hit the rails first, boots screaming along as Rivet took a different rail.
The rail course was an absolute maze, and she lost sight of Ratchet more than once in the chaos, having to duck and jump and hop rails, smashing the occasional obstacle in the way. It was impossible to tell how far along they were, or who was in the lead.
Focused on the track ahead of her, she didn’t hear him until he was right beside her, and suddenly she had a face full of a wide-grinning Ratchet as he had the stones to leap clear over her grind rail from his to the one next to her, curling in a beautiful arc before landing and speeding off.
“You little-!” she could only sputter as his cackles echoed as he disappeared again into the darkness.
She huffed, refocusing on the task at hand. It’d take more than that bit of showboating to throw her off her game, no matter how impressive it was.
The room started to lighten, and all the grind rails started to curve inwards into a downward spiral. Risking a peek below, Rivet saw the exit of the course glowing.
She looked around her at the other rails as she started on the downward spiral. She didn’t see a single glimpse of Ratchet, and she couldn’t help but pump her fist in early victory. That flashy move he’d pulled off probably set him back behind her. She had this one in the bag!
Rivet was lost in her thoughts, deciding what she’d pick from Ratchet’s arsenal when she heard a loud, long whoop of exhilaration above her.
She looked up just in time to see Ratchet perform a backwards flip clear off a dead-end grind rail, diving headfirst down the middle of the spiral into emptiness.
Rivet gasped in horror, forgetting her daydream as she watched Ratchet plummet, a streak of yellow as he rocketed past her. Did the idiot forget that their Hoverboots were disabled for this course?!
Danger ignored, she was a hair away from jumping off to try to catch up with him when he suddenly reached a hand out, and just barely managed to snag a grind rail at his side. Using his momentum he swung around the rail and landed on it with a clang, grinding down the last bit of the rail straight into the finish line.
She gaped as he disappeared into the goal, the light pulsing and giving off a small, victorious, offending ‘ding!’.
Rivet didn’t even try stopping herself from letting out a string of very nasty and rude curses, not bothering trying to catch up with him with anything fancy of herself. Knowing her luck, she’d lose her grip and just go splat somewhere in the abyss.
A very unhappy, pouty Lombax finally slid to the finish line, slouching through the doorway which gave its annoyingly cheery little ‘ding!’ again. She was momentarily blinded before feeling the lurch of teleportation and was greeted by the sight of Ratchet grinning and posing triumphantly while Clank raged around his feet.
“Of all the risky, dangerous things to do!” The robot was nearly beside himself, and Ratchet let out a little apologetic chuckle, putting a placating hand on Clank’s head.
“Don’t worry, pal! I knew I had it, I’ve done it before,” He grinned even wider, and it did nothing to cool down Clank’s anger.
“You stupid fuzzball!” Rivet seethed, and Ratchet turned his grin to her, fangs showing. “How - I’ve never - that was so dangerous!”
“Hey, don’t you talk about danger to me,” He said accusatively, pointing a finger at her. “You pulled off something just as bad with that spike-plate, don’t even try to get out of that.”
“Speaking of that,” Kit piped up very dryly, suddenly by Rivet’s elbow again. Rivet let out a peep of surprise.
“Er - uh - I’ve… done it before?” Rivet said, shrugging her shoulders awkwardly. Ratchet cackled as Kit’s expression only got more flat.
“Both of you are very, very reckless,” Clank said with utter disdain and exasperation coating every word. “I didn’t think it was physically possible for me to have a heart attack, but I’m quite sure I came close to one somehow watching you two in that course.”
“Aw, it wasn’t that bad!” Ratchet said, waving a hand out. “I mean, we beat the course, with hardly a scratch on us! Oh, speaking of that,” He turned to Helga eagerly, who was standing by the room’s console with a stormy expression. “What’s my time? Did I set the record?”
Helga was silent for a few moments, stiff with a very deep scowl on her face. Eventually, she spoke. “...Yes. You have set the newest high record of the course.”
Ratchet whooped out in joy, dashing up to the console to see the scores. There was an enormous time save gap between the third time on the slot and Rivet’s second-place slot - but Ratchet had a clear win even higher than hers, blinking away at the chart with a little crown beside his name.
He fist-pumped victoriously, switching it to finger guns directed at Helga. “Look at that! And we did it with no injuries!”
Rivet looked at the scoreboard. She was glad they’d set such a high bar to try and hurdle, but seeing Ratchet win not just by a little, but by a decent chunk of time thanks to his last little stunt at the end of the course soured her mood.
There was a tug at her glove again, and Rivet didn’t jump this time when she turned to Kit.
“I’m afraid my encouragement wasn’t enough to help you win,” Kit said, looking downtrodden. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh, Kit,” Rivet said, mood switching from frustrated to concern. “It wasn’t your fault at all! Your cheering was great, it’s just that Ratchet is a complete moron with absolutely no sense of self-preservation!” She finished off the sentence in a matter-of-fact manner.
“Hey,” Ratchet grunted, and Clank chortled beside him.
Kit perked up a bit. “Well, I am glad that you got through the course unharmed. But please, next time, do not try to do something like stop a mashy spike-plate with your bare hands. I am not sure my own processor can take another scare like that.”
Rivet smiled. “I will do my best to keep that in mind,” she said, and Kit smiled back at her.
“Not to break up the moment,” Ratchet said, and both Rivet and Kit turned to him with flat expressions. “But I do remember us agreeing on a bet before the course? And I do believe that I’ve won that bet?”
Ratchet was putting on a casual, careless air that only made Rivet more disgruntled. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You won. Congratulations.” She huffed, crossing her arms. “I'll like - do your chores for a week, or something.”
Ratchet tsked, shaking his finger. “Nuh uh, you agreed to the bet even before I finished setting out my end of the bargain. So it’s whatever I say, goes.”
Rivet paled. He was right - she’d been so blinded by the chance to get her hands on one of Ratchet’s weapons she didn’t even check what she’d be giving up if she lost. She grit her teeth, bracing herself. “Alright, so what? What do you want?” She hissed out venomously.
She was prepared for anything, even if it hurt her pride. He’d probably ask for something stereotypical like to be waited on hand and foot, maybe even stuffing her in a stupid dress or -
“Give me one of your old prosthetic arms,” Ratchet said, eyes sparkling.
Rivet did a mental double take. “My - my arm?” She sputtered, looking down at her robotic arm and flexing it into a fist.
“Yeah! I mean - I don’t want to take one of your current ones, I know you have some backups but, you’ve got to have some of your older ones laying around. I’ve never had a chance to really inspect a robotic prosthetic arm before, and I’ve been dying to know how you put yours together!” Ratchet’s tail was wagging in excitement, as if he had just learned of some crazy new weapon he had to get his mitts on. “And it’s fair, right? An old thing versus an old thing?”
Rivet thought for a moment, her eyes flicking from her hand, to Ratchet and back. He wasn’t really wrong… and he’d even asked for one of her older prototypes that she didn’t use anymore.
She also had a feeling that if she was truly uncomfortable with the idea - and if she was honest with herself she was feeling a bit oddly nervous over it - and said no, he’d back down and come up with something else to ask of her. He was just that kind of guy.
It was the last thought that made her nod her head, unconsciously bringing her right arm up to her chest. “...Alright, fair is fair. I’ll give you one of my old arms next time we’re on Sargasso.”
“Sweet!” Ratchet did this oddly cute little victory wiggle before catching himself, coughing awkwardly and standing stiff. “Uh, I mean - cool, yeah. Thanks!”
Rivet just chuckled, relaxing her stance with a hand on her hip. “Yeah, yeah, Mister Hotshot. Don’t let it go to your already massive head.”
Ratchet gasped, posing very dramatically in offence as Clank chuckled beside him. “If my head is big, so is yours! We’re the same proportions!”
“Mmh, yeah, but mine’s cuter,” Rivet winked, and was rewarded with watching Ratchet somehow manage to fumble empty air. She rolled her eyes - it was only a wink, for Mort’s sake.
“Enough with the disgusting flirting and mating displays!” Helga suddenly burst out from behind them, making both Ratchet and Rivet jump a foot in the air with frizzed tails. “Get out of my training facility! Out with you pathetic furballs!”
Rivet scowled at Helga, sticking her tongue out at her before turning around. “C’mon guys, let’s blow this dump.”
Ratchet laughed as he scooped up Clank, looping him over his shoulder to snap into his holster. Rivet looked around for a moment before finally spotting Kit. The yellow bot was struggling to carry the books she’d brought with her, their size enormous in comparison to her little arms.
“Hey, Kit - here, let me get those for you,” Rivet said, picking them up and hooking both under one arm.
Kit fretted, “Oh, are you sure? I don’t mind carrying them, they’re not heavy!” while clasping her hands in a worried motion.
Rivet just grabbed both of Kit’s hands and swung her over her own shoulder, the bot gasping in shock before she herself was locked into Rivet’s holster. “Kit, it’s fine. This way is faster for the both of us, yeah? So we can get back home sooner and you can get started on telling me all about what’s in these old books.”
She felt Kit shift on her back. “Y-yes! To home, yes.”
Rivet was already out the door and following Ratchet’s trail before she realized what she’d said. To ‘home’ - when both she and Kit knew they were just headed back to Ratchet’s place for a few more days before they’d be hopping back to her actual home on her Sargasso.
She hummed to herself, wondering… when exactly did she start getting so comfortable being at Ratchet’s garage? She rarely ever let her guard down, even when she was within the rock and steel reinforced walls of her hideout. She didn’t consider any place to be truly ‘safe’. So what was different?
Rivet heard someone call out to her, and she looked up to spot Ratchet standing by the open door to the Galactic HQ, the sunlight from outside rim-lighting his fur in bright gold. He tilted his head in a side nod. “You coming?”
Rivet slowed down, eyes flicking around his form as she took him in. There was… something there, she knew. Something that she wasn’t quite getting, that wasn’t clicking. But she also knew she wasn’t really the over-thinking type. If her gut told her it was a good idea, she always went with it.
And so, she did.
Rivet smiled at him, picking up her pace. “You bet.”