"Keeping Tarn occupied keeps his attention off you," Megatron distantly feels the cool cleaner on his armor as Ratchet begins to tenderly wash it clean.

Far more than paint is wiped off after some stubborn scrubbing. Even a consistent wash routine couldn't quite get the eons of dirt and industrial grime permanently embedded in his paint. It wasn't until it was all scrubbed out that it really began to come off.

"In any case, I think we'll be going in a better direction here."