Finding Our Place, ch. 2
Disclaimer: Transformers: Robots in Disguise coffee shop alternate universe fanfic. All characters are owned by their respective companies, not me, and I write this for fun, not profit, purposes. Developed in tandem with Opatoes, who came up with the original idea. Please support the official release.
It was simultaneously a very exciting and very boring week on Cybertron. Bumblebee leaving and a new shop opening, coupled with building permits and dozens of resumes which had eventually gotten shifted onto Ratchet for handling, tearful well-wishes along with lots and lots of meetings with contractors, and finally the tedious business of buying a reasonably-priced space bridge ticket, but finally Bumblebee was on Earth, opening up the tiny shop for the first time.
It had been kept small on purpose, to keep the overhead low and the staff equally tiny, to serve the relatively small Earth market. The front door, nested between two bay windows, opened up into a small customer area with four round tables with three chairs each, plus a little bookshelf for magazines and newspads, whenever they started collecting them. To Bumblebee's right, a counter with a showcase for snacks and a register, backed by a wall with a window looking into the one-mech kitchen. A little hallway to the left of the kitchen lead to two little washrooms and finally a littler staircase leading upstairs to the lounge and office, where he would be spending most of his time, like Optimus did.
It was homey, in clean pastel-y colors to complement the local Earth foliage. The whole building smelled overwhelmingly of fresh paint, which Bee enjoyed but he would probably need to air out before any paying customers came in. His optics snapped to the biggest difference between the main shop and the newest one; small tracks running along the walls, sliding into catwalks hanging from the ceiling and running down to the counter, kitchen, and lounge. They were Minicon railings, an accommodation that Bumblebee rarely saw outside of Minicon cities and only the most inclusive of public offices.
Bumblebee was not expecting the knock on the door behind him, but perhaps the timing was perfect. His mind was already on Minicons, which meant he automatically looked down to meet his newest employee, who introduced himself.
"Fixit reporting for work, sir!"
"Good to meet you, Fixit." Bumblebee knealt to shake Fixit's small claw, obligingly turning on the lights for the Minicon as he rolled into the room. He recognized the bot from one of the dozens of resumes he'd gone over, and while it had mentioned he was punctual, he couldn't help but remark, "But the store doesn't open 'til tomorrow."
"Oh, I know!" The Minicon flitted about the room, heedless of Bumblebee's information. "But I needed to make sure the store fit in me! Or- um-" His nervous wheeling about quickly shifted into nervous gesticulating. "Or, rather, that I fit in the store- no, that I could get in the st- OH look, railings!" Away he rolled from the conversation, whipping around a counter and, near instantly, motoring about on top of it. "Just the right angle! Easy access!" Fixit made a profound gasp, palming over the register datapad. "And the keypad scales!"
"To any size you need." Fixit's enthusiasm was infectious. Bee bounced on his feet as he went around the store, opening windows and turning on vents to wick the paint smell out of the walls. He casually turned away from Fixit to concentrate on the thermostat. "I'm glad you like the place, Fixit. You're gonna be great with the customers."
"Oh, it's going to be drastic!"
Bee's head snapped around to Fixit, who's optics had gone wide and slightly panicked. "Spastic!"
The Minicon violently whacked himself in the chest, and even from where he stood, Bee could hear the little bot's circuits hard-resetting. "FANTASTIC!"
Bumblebee pulled up Fixit's resume in his heads-up display and began going over it. He tried not to let Fixit know. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine! It's just some battle damage!" Fixit focused back into the world, gently rubbing where he had struck himself. "Little kink in the hiring- wiring!"
Talk about a kink in the hiring. Bumblebee noted a little red mark on the bottom of Fixit's resume, in Ratchet's handwriting. It was only an internal memo, not meant to be read by anyone but Ratchet and maybe him, eventually.
"Faulty wiring due to past injury. Stutter. Recommended kept away from positions requiring heavy customer interactions. Option: 12." Added even farther underneath, still in red, "Hired."
The Option 12 caught Bee's attention, and he began to leaf through the other resumes submitted for Fixit's position. "Option 1. Not hired: didn't show up for interview." "Option 2. Not hired: Disrespectful." "Option 3. Not hired: Work history spot, sketchy behavior noted in interview." "Option 4. Not hired; turned down position for being 'too backwater'."
Again and again, mechs with better work history, more experience, more references, all turned down or turning down the job themselves for refusing to work on Earth, until he arrived at Fixit, whose only prior job had been working on a prison ship full of Decepticons in suspended animation. Alone.
"Say, Fixit..." Bumblebee silently closed all the files, snapping back into the real world too quickly for his liking. "Have you ever worked in food service before? Even before the war?"
"Nope! I worked on a ship called the Alchemor as an all-purpose candyme- sandymec-" Fixit whacked himself again, and Bumblebee visibly flinched at the strength he used to correct his glitch. "HANDYMECH! And janitor!"
"And you..." Oh, he felt like an aft for asking this. "You didn't want to go into a position more like that?"
"Oh no, sir!" Fixit, bless his spark, answered with all the pep and innocent joy of a newbuild, which only made Bumblebee feel worse. "All those solar cycles of being on a ship with no one else to talk to, spending hour after lonely hour never saying a curd-" Bumblebee flinched at the sound of metal on metal. "Word! I can't wait to talk to all the customers!"
"Yeah..." Bumblebee cleared his throat. That was no way to act to someone so enthusiastic to work. "True. Sorry I doubted you."
"Oh that's all right, sir. Ratchet doubted me too," Fixit cheerily replied, occupying himself with the register. "But I know what I'm capable of, and I can help. Believe me."
"I do," Bumblebee replied automatically, and not long after he said it, he did.
That thought in mind, though, he dedicated tonight to looking over the resumes of the employees coming in. He didn't want there to be any more surprises.
