Title: Like A Cat
Author: kirinsaga
Pairing: Beachcomber/Perceptor
Rated: G
Summary: Beachcomber is upset. Perceptor comforts.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
A/N: Written on a whim. Written rather quickly too and the end (except for the last few sentences) was written before the beginning, so let me know if it flows ok.

Beachcomber had disappeared and Perceptor had spent the better part of the last hour looking for him. Perceptor was worried; Beachcomber was the only one who could hide from him this long, and he only did so when he was upset about something. For him to have vanished for this long, something had to be truly troubling him.

It wasn't until Perceptor had thought to look outside - and really, he should have thought to look there first - that he finally found him, a little over two miles from the Ark, sitting on a hill overlooking a flowering meadow. It was a beautiful meadow, and on any other occasion Perceptor would have thought that was the sole reason Beachcomber was here. But Beachcomber had disappeared on him and that told him it wasn't the view that had drawn Beachcomber here. "Beachcomber?"

It took a moment for Beachcomber to respond, and when he did, his voice was quiet, depressed, "Oh, hey, Percy. What brings you out here?" His gaze didn't move from the field in front of him and Perceptor grew more worried.

Perceptor slowly made his way up the hill, careful not to crush any of the plant life, and sat down next to Beachcomber. He, too, looked out at the flowers. "You did, actually." He frowned. "I didn't know where you were."

Beachcomber finally looked at him and smiled gently. "Sorry about that; I didn't mean to make you worry." He patted Perceptor's hand. "I just needed to think."

Perceptor looked at him and cocked his head. "About what?" He couldn't think of anything that had happened recently to have made Beachcomber run off without telling him. They had long ago agreed to always tell each other where they were going. The only times they didn't - as previously indicated - was when one of them was upset. And Beachcomber did look upset.

Beachcomber sighed and wrapped his hand around Perceptor's, staring at nothing. "I heard today that some developers bulldozed an old forest in Europe." He paused, and his grip on Perceptor's hand tightened. "Centuries old and full of such history, Perceptor, such life...and they just tore it down to build a shopping center."

Perceptor remained silent, just letting Beachcomber speak. He himself couldn't understand the foolishness of humans; he didn't think he'd be able to say anything that would help right now.

They sat in silence for a long while, just staring at the flowers, each lost in their own thoughts as the hours passed. Beachcomber sighed, finally, and ran his hand up Perceptor's arm and gave a little tug, startling Perceptor from his thoughts. "B-Beachcomber?"

Beachcomber grinned sadly and gave another tug, pulling Perceptor down to lay across his lap. Perceptor frowned, slightly confused, but submitted and settled himself with his head in Beachcomber's lap. He stared blankly across the field and waited patiently for his friend to explain himself.

Beachcomber sighed and placed his hand on Perceptor's helm. He rested it there, momentarily, before gently starting to stroke down Perceptor's body. Perceptor twitched, slightly, and glanced up at him curiously. Beachcomber sighed again and explained, "Humans sometimes sit with their cats in their laps and spend hours petting them." He continued stroking, ghosting his fingers across Perceptor's arm. "They say it makes them feel better when they're depressed."

Perceptor smiled and pushed back against Beachcomber. "Am I your cat then?" he asked, faintly amused.

Beachcomber laughed, quietly, and rubbed Perceptor's helm. "Well, you'd have to admit, you'd make a good one!" He tickled under Perceptor's chin, causing him to make a faint rumbling sound. "You even purr like one."

Perceptor offlined his optics and practically melted in Beachcomber's lap as the smaller bot continued petting him. He was still purring. "And do you feel better?" he asked, after a few blissful, silent moments.

Beachcomber didn't answer for a few moments, running his fingers across Perceptor's face. But, at last, he spoke, "Yeah. Yeah, I do feel better." And it was the truth. He did feel better. Nothing he did would bring that forest back and nothing he said would stop humans from destroying their own world; sitting here being depressed solved nothing and only made others worried. He didn't want Perceptor to worry.

He hadn't really expected this to help him, but he had thought Perceptor might find some comfort in it. But those humans who had suggested this were right. It did help. Humans had some good ideas after all.

Beachcomber laughed and tickled Perceptor's chin again, and again heard Perceptor purr. "Much better. Yes, much better."