A/N: Late night, playing around with the random pairings generator somehow generated this.

Prompt: Tracks / Primus / skin

Disclaimer: The usual. Don't own, please don't sue.

It was early evening, a warm summer's day. Despite the fact that the sun was dipping behind a tall building the air was still humid, and most people preferred to sit indoors with their air conditioners turned on. The streets were practically deserted, except for an old woman carrying a bag of groceries. She was walking slowly down the street, struggling with the heavy bag, sweating in the heat. She could see two young girls stretching their legs in the sun on a staircase, trying to catch the last rays of sun before it disappeared altogether, but she saw no one else, and therefore she was rather surprised to suddenly hear a noise that sounded somewhat like a sigh behind her. She quickly turned around, readjusting the grip on her bag that she'd almost dropped from surprise at hearing the sound.

There was no one behind her, not on the street, and not inside the car parked by the curb. She looked at the car for a moment, wondering briefly what such a stylish, not to mention clean, car was doing in a neighborhood like this. It was a deep blue, with a flame symbol emblazoned on the hood. Huh, she thought, wondering how long the young thugs in the area would leave it alone. She knew next to nothing about cars, but she could see that this was something extra, and would probably get stolen unless the owner showed up soon. Well, that wasn't really her problem, and besides, it wasn't doing her vegetables any good to be out longer than necessary in this heat. With that in mind she turned away and continued her walk home.

x-x-x

Tracks was bored. Not just ordinarily bored, but utterly, completely, mind-numbingly bored. Normally he didn't mind being in his car mode, in fact he often preferred it, but normally he wasn't parked in a boring neighborhood, in blistering sun, all alone without any people around to admire his beauty. This was not his idea of fun. The old woman who had passed a few minutes ago hadn't even glanced at him until he gave an exasperated, rather dramatic sigh, and even then she just looked at him for a second or two before moving on. So here he was, the sexiest, sleekest and most stylish sports car in the entire world, being totally ignored. For about the fiftieth time this evening he wished that Raoul would just hurry up and get out here already. What in the world could take him so long?

He was just about to finally give up and leave; letting Raoul find himself another mode of transportation, when the door to the house by which he was parked finally flew up and a young man in a black leather jacket stepped out. He was mumbling to himself, looking extremely upset, and Tracks immediately forgot the sarcastic comment about being on time he had prepared to deliver. Instead he simply opened the door on the driver's side and let the irate young man in.

"Raoul, what is the matter? Has something happened?" he asked, trying to sound sympathetic.

Raoul sank into the seat, glaring at the dashboard.

"What? You can't see it? You must, it's huge! It's a total disaster!" Raoul exclaimed, waving his arms about for emphasis.

"See what?" Tracks asked, perplexed. "Granted, my scans aren't as conclusive as Ratchet's, but you seem to be within the acceptable parameters of normal health."

"Isn't it obvious?" Raoul replied. "Argh, why did it have to be today of all days? It could have– wait", he paused for a second. "You scanned me?"

"You seemed upset, I merely wanted to make sure there wasn't anything physically wrong with you", Tracks answered in a level voice.

"There's nothing wrong with me! Man, you could have asked first." Raoul said, running his hands over his upper body, as if to ascertain it was still there.

"You'd just have said no", Tracks replied, amused.

"Damn right I would!" Raoul muttered, punching the steering wheel lightly, prompting a "hey, watch it" from the Corvette. A sullen silence fell between the two.

"So", Tracks finally ventured. "Care to tell me what's upsetting you then?"

"I can't believe you don't notice it. It's huge", the dark-haired boy replied.

"Yes yes, you said that. What is?" Tracks asked impatiently.

"This!" Raoul pointed to something on his forehead. Tracks focused his scanners on the spot, trying to figure out what Raoul was referring to.

"You mean the small imperfection on your skin?"

"Small? Small? It's not small! It's a goddamn volcano on my forehead! I can't go meet Maria like this!" Raoul wailed.

"Why not? I mean, it's not like you don't have any other of those on your body. You have several on your back for example; I don't hear you complaining about them?" Tracks said, clearly confused.

Raoul just stared at the dashboard, trying to comprehend what the Corvette had just said.

"You … you… My back?" He shook his head. "Never mind, just never scan me again, will you?" he said, prodding the dashboard.

"Whatever." Tracks said, totally unapologetic.

"And it's not so much that it's a pimple, it's the fact that it's sitting in the middle of my forehead like some big blaring police light."

"Well then, can't you just remove it if it bothers you so much?"

"No. It's not that easy. It won't just go away that fast, and I can't just hammer it out like you would a dent. Dammit, it's just my luck. I finally have a date with the prettiest girl in New York, I have the stylish jacket, I have tickets to the new Alien movie, I have the best-looking ride like ever, and I get a pimple the size of Mount McKinley! It's just not fair!" He slouched further down in the seat, as silence fell again.

"It's not that big", Tracks said after a while, breaking the silence. "I'm sure Maria won't notice it."

"Yeah right", Raoul said sullenly.

"Well, you're not going to sit here all night feeling sorry for yourself, are you? Girls don't like being stood up, and I for one have no intention whatsoever wasting my time sitting here with you sulking inside."

"I'm not sulking!"

"Oh, you so are. You're sulking like a baby."

Raoul opened his mouth to protest again, then he relented.

"Fine", he said. "Let's go then. Better get this over and done with. Maybe she's gone temporarily blind and won't notice anything."

Tracks didn't say anything. He just started his engine and rolled out into the street, glad to get away from the boring spot where he'd been parked, going towards more populated areas of the city to pick up Raoul's date.

As he drove through the streets he sent a silent thanks to Primus, immensely thankful he'd been blessed with his smooth, perfect metal skin instead of the blemish-infested soft tissue organics were stuck with. Because, let's face it, that ugly thing on Raoul's forehead was truly enormous.