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ayngelcatTitle: A Change in Fortune
Universe: G1
Rating: PG 13
Characters: Scavenger, Swindle
Warnings: Reference to Combaticons interfacing
Notes: Written for speedwriting, but it went slightly overtime and I decided to put it here anyway.
Set after BOT and the spare parts incident, it's part of the circumstances leading up to 'Substitute - before Swindle gets ‘replaced.’ I've always liked the idea of these two!
A CHANGE IN FORTUNE
There was a knocking at the door.
On the undersized berth in the cramped windowless room, the smallest Combaticon stirred unhappily. What had he done this time? More knocking sounded. With a sinking spark, Swindle onlined his optics.
Rapidly, he performed an evaluation of the morning's activities.
He'd gotten straight out to the practice area when summoned, and so far as he could recall, Bruticus had performed admirably, striding through the canyon as he pulverized the rock faces on either side without so much as a stumble. And that was even though Swindle had put up with Onslaught's barking, the contemptuous silence of Blast Off, Vortex's snipes and Brawl raving about how they ought to interface even though - for Primus sake - that was the last thing Swindle felt like.
Then, later, he'd 'left them to it' as requested, ignoring Brawl's wistful look and returning to his chores at the base. The floors were now washed, all surfaces polished to a high shine. The weapons store was tidy and in order, Onslaught's command room dusted and gleaming. All their rooms had also been cleaned - to the extent that this was 'permissible' and without any glimpse at 'personal effects.' Their berths were made.
The table lay ready, plates and cubes on the table. Swindle had even prepared a batch of Onslaught's favourite energon snacks, which were cooling on the work surface.
None of it even went halfway, Swindle knew, to making up for the spare parts incident - it seemed nothing he did would ever make up for that, even though it was now six months distant. But it kept them content; and it made Vortex less inclined to pulverize him whenever the opportunity arose - for fear of reprimand from the others at the removal of the excellent domestic services they'd come to appreciate.
So what had he missed?
Tatatap - taptap. It didn't sound like one of their knocks.
Swindle allowed the gestalt bond to open, just fleetingly. Any more was, he had learned, not wise. It made him feel - attached. And if he allowed himself to become attached - to them, or to this subordinating and humiliating situation any more than he had to be to ensure his own survival, then he'd never get back to his 'old self,' to being the independent businessmech which he knew, underneath all this nonsense, he still was.
The glimpse showed that they were all - otherwise engaged. He caught waves of desire between Onslaught and Blast Off, whilst Vortex and Brawl appeared - to his relief - to be in some kind of zapped out post-overload state. Nobody would be surfacing for a while.
TAPTAPTAP! Primus they were persistent, whoever they were!
Swindle suddenly felt a lease of life. He never had visitors these days - well - not non Combaticon ones! Feeling more cheerful than he remembered being in a while, the smallest Combaticon alighted from the berth and strutted over to the door.
It creaked open rustily to reveal a tall, lanky green figure with a metal box under its arm. Red optics gleamed in the dim light, and Swindle caught the glimpse of a shovel in the gloom behind the mech.
The Combaticon blinked. "Scavenger?"
The Constructicon grinned sheepishly. "Er- hi! Is this a bad time?"
.......................
"Fan-fraggin -tastic!" Swindle said again.
On the table between them were a number of bowls. A different colour sparkled from each one. The box from which the bowl contents had come sat empty to one side. Swindle had picked out the contraband precious stones one by one, organizing them into 'categories.'
Swindle replaced the gold ring with the stunning red stone inset with the other jewellery in the 'ruby' bowl. "Run it past me again - how you got all this gear?" he asked, his optics shining brightly.
Scavenger's intakes let out a small sigh. Not that he really minded recanting the details of his 'find' but this was the third time Swindle had asked and not listened; so busy had the Combaticon been sorting through and fingering everything.
"Megatron has us doing stuff to help the squishies," Scavenger said. "It's all part of this scheme to make them think Decepticons are gonna be OK to them. We're not, of course, and as soon as they think that enough and start giving Megatron what he wants, he's gonna take it all and blow them off the face of the planet. But in the meantime, Scrapper's got us working on 'projects.'"
"We were excavating a swimming pool for this rich squishie," he went on. "On this real flash estate. Kinda - a bit like what the Towers used to be - not that I ever went there, but what it always looked like from the holoshots ..."
Swindle sighed impatiently. "Yeah. And? Get to the point!"
"I am!" said Scavenger. "Boney was telling this joke, and I wasn't really concentrating, and I accidentally crashed my shovel into this shed thing. When I pulled it out and shook all the concrete bits off, it had that box stuck in it."
Scavenger grinned. "But nice, eh?" Reaching into the 'emerald' bowl, he pulled out a gold chain to which was attached a large oval shaped pendant. Placing it in the palm of his hand, he held it out to Swindle.
Swindle picked the chain up and dangled the gem, letting the artificial light cast green flashing rays around the room. "Outstanding ..." he murmured. And it was. Even on Cybertron, this lot would fetch a more than reasonable sum. But here. On Earth ....
His processor was racing. This just had to be his ticket out of here! Oh, he might have been forbidden by Onslaught to operate as a businessmech whilst the gestalt programming 'settled' into making him a 'true Combaticon.' He might have been confined to 'domestic duties' to hasten the process. But as the gems gleamed from the bowls, Swindle could almost feel the knots of the gestalt bond slipping undone.
And none of the others would be deactivated, hurt, or have so much as a scratch on them. Surely they would not mind so much this time?
But there were other practicalities. "The rest of your team don't know about this?" Swindle asked.
"Nah - said Scavenger. "But they will. We're like that. I can never hide stuff, see? And then Scrapper'll wanna give it to Megatron or something. Besides - it's caused problems. The squishie's looking for it. I was thinking you could kinda - get rid of it."
Swindle nodded, his mind going through the catalog of 'dodgy' humans he'd done business with before - the ones with whom he'd been forbidden to 'associate.' They would not be deterred by some other human making a fuss. Besides, there was always Cybertron. Maybe Ganthis. Primus, if he got operating again, there were endless possibilities!
It was amazing how much of his old self Swindle was suddenly feeling! Oh yes, the old touch was coming right back! Replacing the gem in the bowl, he looked at Scavenger, managing to get a rueful 'my hands are tied' look on his faceplates.
"Have to take it - slowly - of course, " he said. "Afraid I couldn't cut you in more than twenty per cent to begin with!"
But Scavenger beamed. "Oh I wasn't counting on being cut in at all!" he said. "It's just that - well you've looked kinda - sad, Swindle! I just thought this might cheer you up, that's all ..."
The Constucticon looked down at the table. "And I thought that - if you were cheered up and could make some money out of it - then you might wanna be ..." an awkward little shudder went through his frame, "my friend!" His voice dropped to a bare whisper: " I don't have many of those, you see ....""
Swindle stared at him in amazement. Surely he could not be this lucky? He gave a little laugh. "I don't either, Scavenger," he said. Reaching across, he patted the Constructicon's hand. "Guess you got yourself a deal!"
Scavenger smiled delightedly across the table, optics sparkling like the gems, and Swindle could not stop a little flare from erupting through his spark. And although, undoubtedly, his new found fortune coupled with potential freedom and the resumption of his former career was largely responsible for this, the Combaticon could not help feeling that there was just a little 'something' else.
He grinned at his new 'friend.' "You can still have the twenty per cent," he said.
Universe: G1
Rating: PG 13
Characters: Scavenger, Swindle
Warnings: Reference to Combaticons interfacing
Notes: Written for speedwriting, but it went slightly overtime and I decided to put it here anyway.
Set after BOT and the spare parts incident, it's part of the circumstances leading up to 'Substitute - before Swindle gets ‘replaced.’ I've always liked the idea of these two!
A CHANGE IN FORTUNE
There was a knocking at the door.
On the undersized berth in the cramped windowless room, the smallest Combaticon stirred unhappily. What had he done this time? More knocking sounded. With a sinking spark, Swindle onlined his optics.
Rapidly, he performed an evaluation of the morning's activities.
He'd gotten straight out to the practice area when summoned, and so far as he could recall, Bruticus had performed admirably, striding through the canyon as he pulverized the rock faces on either side without so much as a stumble. And that was even though Swindle had put up with Onslaught's barking, the contemptuous silence of Blast Off, Vortex's snipes and Brawl raving about how they ought to interface even though - for Primus sake - that was the last thing Swindle felt like.
Then, later, he'd 'left them to it' as requested, ignoring Brawl's wistful look and returning to his chores at the base. The floors were now washed, all surfaces polished to a high shine. The weapons store was tidy and in order, Onslaught's command room dusted and gleaming. All their rooms had also been cleaned - to the extent that this was 'permissible' and without any glimpse at 'personal effects.' Their berths were made.
The table lay ready, plates and cubes on the table. Swindle had even prepared a batch of Onslaught's favourite energon snacks, which were cooling on the work surface.
None of it even went halfway, Swindle knew, to making up for the spare parts incident - it seemed nothing he did would ever make up for that, even though it was now six months distant. But it kept them content; and it made Vortex less inclined to pulverize him whenever the opportunity arose - for fear of reprimand from the others at the removal of the excellent domestic services they'd come to appreciate.
So what had he missed?
Tatatap - taptap. It didn't sound like one of their knocks.
Swindle allowed the gestalt bond to open, just fleetingly. Any more was, he had learned, not wise. It made him feel - attached. And if he allowed himself to become attached - to them, or to this subordinating and humiliating situation any more than he had to be to ensure his own survival, then he'd never get back to his 'old self,' to being the independent businessmech which he knew, underneath all this nonsense, he still was.
The glimpse showed that they were all - otherwise engaged. He caught waves of desire between Onslaught and Blast Off, whilst Vortex and Brawl appeared - to his relief - to be in some kind of zapped out post-overload state. Nobody would be surfacing for a while.
TAPTAPTAP! Primus they were persistent, whoever they were!
Swindle suddenly felt a lease of life. He never had visitors these days - well - not non Combaticon ones! Feeling more cheerful than he remembered being in a while, the smallest Combaticon alighted from the berth and strutted over to the door.
It creaked open rustily to reveal a tall, lanky green figure with a metal box under its arm. Red optics gleamed in the dim light, and Swindle caught the glimpse of a shovel in the gloom behind the mech.
The Combaticon blinked. "Scavenger?"
The Constructicon grinned sheepishly. "Er- hi! Is this a bad time?"
.......................
"Fan-fraggin -tastic!" Swindle said again.
On the table between them were a number of bowls. A different colour sparkled from each one. The box from which the bowl contents had come sat empty to one side. Swindle had picked out the contraband precious stones one by one, organizing them into 'categories.'
Swindle replaced the gold ring with the stunning red stone inset with the other jewellery in the 'ruby' bowl. "Run it past me again - how you got all this gear?" he asked, his optics shining brightly.
Scavenger's intakes let out a small sigh. Not that he really minded recanting the details of his 'find' but this was the third time Swindle had asked and not listened; so busy had the Combaticon been sorting through and fingering everything.
"Megatron has us doing stuff to help the squishies," Scavenger said. "It's all part of this scheme to make them think Decepticons are gonna be OK to them. We're not, of course, and as soon as they think that enough and start giving Megatron what he wants, he's gonna take it all and blow them off the face of the planet. But in the meantime, Scrapper's got us working on 'projects.'"
"We were excavating a swimming pool for this rich squishie," he went on. "On this real flash estate. Kinda - a bit like what the Towers used to be - not that I ever went there, but what it always looked like from the holoshots ..."
Swindle sighed impatiently. "Yeah. And? Get to the point!"
"I am!" said Scavenger. "Boney was telling this joke, and I wasn't really concentrating, and I accidentally crashed my shovel into this shed thing. When I pulled it out and shook all the concrete bits off, it had that box stuck in it."
Scavenger grinned. "But nice, eh?" Reaching into the 'emerald' bowl, he pulled out a gold chain to which was attached a large oval shaped pendant. Placing it in the palm of his hand, he held it out to Swindle.
Swindle picked the chain up and dangled the gem, letting the artificial light cast green flashing rays around the room. "Outstanding ..." he murmured. And it was. Even on Cybertron, this lot would fetch a more than reasonable sum. But here. On Earth ....
His processor was racing. This just had to be his ticket out of here! Oh, he might have been forbidden by Onslaught to operate as a businessmech whilst the gestalt programming 'settled' into making him a 'true Combaticon.' He might have been confined to 'domestic duties' to hasten the process. But as the gems gleamed from the bowls, Swindle could almost feel the knots of the gestalt bond slipping undone.
And none of the others would be deactivated, hurt, or have so much as a scratch on them. Surely they would not mind so much this time?
But there were other practicalities. "The rest of your team don't know about this?" Swindle asked.
"Nah - said Scavenger. "But they will. We're like that. I can never hide stuff, see? And then Scrapper'll wanna give it to Megatron or something. Besides - it's caused problems. The squishie's looking for it. I was thinking you could kinda - get rid of it."
Swindle nodded, his mind going through the catalog of 'dodgy' humans he'd done business with before - the ones with whom he'd been forbidden to 'associate.' They would not be deterred by some other human making a fuss. Besides, there was always Cybertron. Maybe Ganthis. Primus, if he got operating again, there were endless possibilities!
It was amazing how much of his old self Swindle was suddenly feeling! Oh yes, the old touch was coming right back! Replacing the gem in the bowl, he looked at Scavenger, managing to get a rueful 'my hands are tied' look on his faceplates.
"Have to take it - slowly - of course, " he said. "Afraid I couldn't cut you in more than twenty per cent to begin with!"
But Scavenger beamed. "Oh I wasn't counting on being cut in at all!" he said. "It's just that - well you've looked kinda - sad, Swindle! I just thought this might cheer you up, that's all ..."
The Constucticon looked down at the table. "And I thought that - if you were cheered up and could make some money out of it - then you might wanna be ..." an awkward little shudder went through his frame, "my friend!" His voice dropped to a bare whisper: " I don't have many of those, you see ....""
Swindle stared at him in amazement. Surely he could not be this lucky? He gave a little laugh. "I don't either, Scavenger," he said. Reaching across, he patted the Constructicon's hand. "Guess you got yourself a deal!"
Scavenger smiled delightedly across the table, optics sparkling like the gems, and Swindle could not stop a little flare from erupting through his spark. And although, undoubtedly, his new found fortune coupled with potential freedom and the resumption of his former career was largely responsible for this, the Combaticon could not help feeling that there was just a little 'something' else.
He grinned at his new 'friend.' "You can still have the twenty per cent," he said.
