Rating: K

Warnings: None

Setting/Spoilers: Set at the beginning of A Crack in Time. I guess spoilers are up through that point? This long after release I don't know that basic plot points are really spoilers anymore. Maybe spoilers up through Qwark's opening monologue.

Disclaimer: Ratchet and Clank and everything therein are the property of Insomniac Games. It's their sandbox...I'm just playing in it.

(Italics = flashback)


"Qwark, we don't have room for all of that." Ratchet leaned back against Aphelion, surveying Qwark's luggage with dismay. "Seriously, why do you need seven suitcases? This is a rescue mission, not a publicity tour."

"Yeah, but it never hurts to be prepared," the captain protested.

Ratchet buried his face in one hand. "Get it down to one suitcase or you're not coming with me."

"That's no fair!"

"One suitcase, Qwark! I'm not afraid to leave without you."

With a grumble under his breath, Captain Qwark sat down in the middle of the spaceport to sort through his suitcases. "We'll see who's saving the galaxy when I can't find my crotchetizer."

The lombax sighed and turned away. Now that he finally had a clue for where Clank might be he got saddled with the galaxy's "greatest hero". He missed Talwyn already. They had made plans to search for Clank together, but she had finally gotten a new lead in her search for her father. Ratchet couldn't blame her for wanting to follow the trail before it got cold again...but he could wish Qwark was a bit more...heroic.

"Hey, Ratchet, I can get it down to five if I leave my espresso machine behind, is that enough?"

"One bag, Qwark."

"That's just cruel! How can you expect me to go on a rescue mission without this?"

Ratchet turned to look at the device in the captain's hand. It looked like someone had taken an ignition coil, a section of drain pipe, and bright pink oven mitt and welded them together. "Uh...what is it?"

"It's a Dual Iron 300! Combination hairdryer and waffle maker. Very useful for making breakfast and taming flyaway split ends all at the same time," Qwark explained, striking a pose. "It also makes a mean kerchu surprise. You can't expect me to leave this behind—that would be barbaric!"

"Do you even have hair?"

Qwark started to reply, looked at the Dual Iron 300, back over to Ratchet, then tossed the device over his shoulder. "Fair enough. This baby, though...Foraz Thul's Nine-Irons-In-One Automatic Golf Club with Detachable Caddy (those don't come cheap, you know). That should come in handy, right?"

Ratchet slapped a hand over his eyes. "Keep an eye on him, will ya?" he murmured to Aphelion. "I'm gonna go check on the flight plan."

Leaving Qwark under the ship's capable supervision, Ratchet made his way through the spaceport to the navigation kiosk. The last time he'd checked the departure queue there had been an alert about an engine failure on one of the platforms. Everything seemed to be running smoothly now, but there were still four ships to go before Aphelion was clear for take-off.

As he was checking the departure lanes his nav-unit pinged, alerting him to a private text-only message. It was probably from Talwyn, one more "good bye and good luck" note (she'd already sent three of those). Ratchet sighed again and activated the screen on the device.

Greetings, customer 700-32819!

This is an automated deposit alert. Your account ending in H-R57 has received a deposit of 1473 bolts. This amount is now available for use.

Thank you for banking with the Gadgecorp Intergalactic Bolt and Trust.

Ratchet stared at the message for a moment. Deposit? But he hadn't made a deposit in weeks. That could onlys mean... "Clank?"

Ratchet climbed into the pilot seat, grateful to finally head away from the movie studio. "What a day, huh, Pal?"

"Indeed." Clank was turning something over in his hands. "I believe I could get used to this."

The lombax let out a snort of laughter. "I'll bet, Secret Agent Clank. Hey, whatcha got there?"

"My pay chip. Apparently I am compensated generously for my role in this film."

"Yeah? That's great!" Ratchet patted the little robot on the shoulder. "Let's head over to the bank and open an account for you."

Clank blinked. "Can we not deposit it in your account?"

"No, that's your money, Clank," Ratchet shook his head. "It wouldn't be right for me to take any of it."

"But you would not be taking it."

"Yeah, well..." Ratchet shifted in his seat. "Look, it's your pay chip. You're the star, Clank. I'm just the chauffeur. You need to keep those bolts for yourself."

"You let me have access to the bolts you earn through your mechanic jobs," Clank replied.

"That's different."

"We have also shared the bolts found during our adventures."

"Yeah, but we both found those."

"How is the money I am earning any different?"

Ratchet fidgeted again. "It's just...well..." his voice sank down to a mutter, "I can't make that much." Things had been a lot easier back on Veldin, where he could count on steady work. There were just too many mechanics on Kerwan.

"What if we added my name to your account? Then you would not be taking it; we would simply be merging our earnings."

Ratchet blinked. He hadn't thought of that. It still felt a little bit like taking his friend's money, but they did already share an apartment. Besides, it wasn't like he was going to run off with Clank's money. The little robot was all the family he had.

And he had to admit...after years of scrounging for whatever bolts he could earn on odd jobs it would be nice to have a steady income. Even if most of that income was Clank's.

"All right," Ratchet relented, "but if you ever want to open your own account just say so."

"I do not believe that will be necessary." Clank settled back in his seat, decidedly content. "Now, Jeeves, to the bank."

"Yes sir, Secret Agent Clank, sir!"

If Clank was operational, every bolt he found or earned would automatically be deposited into that account.

For the first time in weeks, a genuine smile spread across Ratchet's face.

"Hang on, Pal. I'm coming."


PS: Qwark finally got his luggage consolidated to two suitcases. Sadly, he lost his entire collection of self-drying loofahs in the crash on Zolar.