A/N: It's filler. Not much more than that. Enjoy.
"I fragging knew it!"
Prowl nearly jumped from his armour when Bumblebee came storming into their room, punching the wall and leaving a dent. He tried not to groan at the slight destruction. It wasn't like it was out of place in the room; it was just another repair to be made.
He caught the scout's smoldering gaze and and asked calmly, "What's the matter?" Bumblebee growled in both irritation and anger, having a hard time controlling himself and keeping from punching the wall again.
"It's that-that fragging salesbot! That Swindle! Don't you remember him?" The yellow mech demanded, throwing his arms up in the air as if it would emphasize his question. Prowl shook his helm, muttering, 'vaguely'. Part of him thought he'd meet the bot once, the parts that could be seen of his alt. form bringing a fuzzy picture to Prowl's meta.
Bumblebee huffed and crossed the room, standing directly in front of him, "He's that arms dealer we ran into on Earth. A Decepticon Arms dealer! Do you know what that means? Weapons he's sold could be the exact same weapons that killed every one we knew!" Finishing his sentence, Bumblebee choked up, and it took everything he had not to break down.
The scout was still having a hard time coming to terms with what they'd been through, but Prowl saw the grief as something of a relief. Bumblebee had spent so many months in silence that he'd feared the yellow bot was going insane.
To see him actually mourning showed that he hadn't lost his mind to all the chaos.
The pieces finally clicking in his processor as to who Swindle was, Prowl actually growled. Surely Lockdown knew this yet he'd still allowed that bot, who would sell out his own creator for the right price and who'd likely given the Decepticons their weapons, to know where they were, that they were traveling with him, that they were the only mechs to survive Megatron's attack.
Gritting his dentals, Prowl weighed the options and possible outcomes of confronting the two bots. Lockdown was a fighter, a dirty fighter, but Prowl knew he could handle him especially since he'd finished his training. However, Swindle was a walking arsenal armed from helm to pede with every weapon imaginable, and if he managed to get caught by surprise, well then, he was as good as slagged.
Getting into a fight with them also came with the distinct possiblity of being jettisoned into space or left on an asteroid, neither a situation he wanted to find themselves in.
Sighing, he rubbed his temple and looked back at Bumblebee who'd regained some self-control and was waiting for his answer. "Even if he did, there's nothing we can do now."
"What?"
"Bumblebee, Lockdown is our only means of survival right now. Do you really want to take the risk of being left in some barren part of space to die?" The yellow mech halted in whatever protest he'd manged to piece together and looked at his pedes resignedly. Sympathetic, Prowl got up from his chair and gently grabbed his shoulders, catching his attention again and forcing him to look up, " I don't trust Swindle either, but if Lockdown wants to work with him, then there's nothing we can say against it."
Bumblebee sighed, nodding, leaning into Prowl as he'd come to do whenever something bothered him though moments like that tended to revolve around bad memories and the want to get rid of them. It would take some time, their escape from Earth having only been less two orbital cycles ago, but eventually, some sense normality would work its way into their lives.
Prowl smiled and rubbed his shoulder, "Besides, with a designation like 'swindle', I'm sure Lockdown has problem with him, too."