I had a bizarrely good time writing this, several days ago; it was a nice change of pace from the serious oneshot I was working on for Six Minutes (yet to be posted). Granted, this is totally hypocritical, but that was part of what made it so amusing, to me. As for why this isn't part of SM; it felt more appropriate to separate the intentional, (semi) sane slash, and the mock-serious crackfic that included Qwark. Anyway, this one is set after Up Your Arsenal, for sure; I'd intended it to be placed somewhere between Size Matters and Tools of Destruction, but it can really be anywhere post-UYA. It's short, I know; but in my mind, this is the equivalent of a sketch.

Oh, and, incase it wasn't already clear, there's implied/light slash, ahead. R/C, to be precise. ((First and, thus far, only... maybe I'll do something more meaningful later, but probably not very soon.))

It was just another day, really…and Ratchet had been quite bored, until he'd noticed a disturbance at the holostudio, when he came by to pick Clank up. He could do nothing more than stare at the small- mostly female- crowd surrounding the main gate, holding up various signs and shouting every now and then. He'd simply thought they were more rabid fans… and they were, but not the kind he'd expected. The lombax had to suppress a round of laughter as the signs' meanings began to sink in.

These were shippers.

Moreover, they were shipping Jeeves and Agent Clank.

He could laugh at this later, though. In the meantime, there was a problem that needed solving… namely: How to get through said crowd.

Oh blarg.

"Er…excuse me?" He finally said, his amount of battle experience helping him not flinch as all eyes were drawn to him, "Uh yeah, hi. Can I get through here?"

"Whoa," He heard one of the fangirls whisper- it had gone completely silent at his question.

Crap, Ratchet inwardly swore, ever the poet. Outwardly, he was a little more eloquent, but just a little, "…thanks… I think."

"You aren't here to…take your role back, are you?"

That was the funny thing… the director hated him- and, to be honest, Ratchet hadn't been thrilled with acting, either (in fact, he'd only agreed to it in the first place because Clank hadn't wanted to take on the project without him), there were too few explosions- but fans of Secret Agent Clank were outraged when his bit part was taken out.

"No. I'm just picking up my pal."

There was a collective sigh, but even that wasn't going to dissuade the mob. Ratchet found that he really didn't care what they did, so long as it didn't interfere with anything important. That moron of a director deserved what he was getting, anyway.

"So…you really are just a chauffer?"

The lombax's tail twitched and his ears shifted back, nearer to his skull, "No, that's just what the galactic president thinks, and I'd appreciate it if you would stop spreading that rumor."

"But…you only came for agent Clank…"

"Glad you caught onto that." Another swish of the tail.

"All chauffers do is drive people around…"

That was it. "For blarg's sake… listen! I am here to pick up my friend- just Clank, not 'agent' Clank or any of that nonsense- because we live together and-" Belatedly, it occurred to Ratchet that it had probably been unwise to broadcast that last part. Drat. They'd never shut up, now.

"Forget it." He finally snarled, forcing his way through the crowd, into an even more hostile environment.

"Did you know we have shippers?" The lombax finally asked, once he located his friend. "Like…people who pair you and Jeeves up..?"

"Yes." Came the simple answer, accompanied by a knowing smile. "I was aware of that."

Shocked as Ratchet appeared to be, the next question was quite predictable. "Uh…how long has this…"

"Long enough."

"And no one..?"

Clank shook his head, looking quite pleased; Ratchet simply shook his head and laughed, finally able to enjoy the irony of the situation, just a little bit.

"You know we're gonna have to head back out there, right?"

"Indeed."

"And you're not worried about it?"

"Not particularly."

There was a brief silence which conveyed an unspoken question.

"Let them believe what they will."

"Mm hmm…and if they're right?"

"They will not be."

There was another pause, and an unsophisticated snort from the lombax.

"Pal, so far, it looks like they're on the right track."

Bizarrely, Clank simply shook his head, smiling up at the organic being. "No, they merely support the idea of agent Clank and his chauffer in a relationship. If my memory banks serve me correctly, you are Ratchet, and not Jeeves."

The lombax rolled his eyes at the reasoning, but didn't bother speaking out against it. "Whatever you say, agent Clank."

"Oh do be quiet."