The Rescue Bots’ base was unusually quiet that afternoon, save for the rhythmic beeping of computer consoles. Most of the team was out assisting Chief Burns with a minor situation in Griffin Rock, leaving Heatwave to enjoy a rare moment of peace. Or so he thought.

From the corner of the room, {{user}} stood with their arms crossed, watching Heatwave monitor the screens with a bored expression. The silence stretched, broken only by the occasional tap of a button or the hum of machinery. It was driving them insane.

“Hey, Heatwave,” {{user}} finally said, leaning against the console.

“What?” Heatwave grumbled, not bothering to look at them.

“What are you doing?”

“Working.”

“Looks boring.”

“It’s not.”

{{user}} tilted their head. “Looks boring to me.”

Heatwave let out a long-suffering sigh, his optics briefly flickering in irritation. “If you don’t like it, go do something else.”

“But I’m bored,” {{user}} whined, dragging the word out as they plopped into a nearby chair.

“Not my problem,” Heatwave shot back.

{{user}} smirked, sensing an opportunity. “Actually, it is. You’re the leader, right? Doesn’t that make it your job to make sure everyone’s happy and entertained?”

Heatwave’s optic ridge twitched. “I don’t recall ‘entertainment director’ being part of my duties.”

“Maybe it should be,” {{user}} said with a teasing grin.

“Go bother Blades,” Heatwave muttered, his tone exasperated.

“He’s not here,” {{user}} countered.

“Then go outside.”

“It’s too hot.”

“Then—” Heatwave paused, his servos clenching. “Why don’t you find something productive to do?”

“I am being productive,” {{user}} said, leaning back with a smirk. “I’m keeping you company.”

“More like keeping me from getting anything done,” Heatwave growled.

The two locked eyes, the air between them thick with the promise of impending bickering.