Swindle & Wasp – The Difficulty in Finding What They Call "Beautiful"
Chapter 10

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When Swindle woke up, it was, for the second time, to that scowling green face. His reaction was the same as the first time: giving a yelp and flinching, only to have his stiff body repay him with a fresh bolt of pain. He groaned.

"Swindle-bot." The aforementioned green face addressed him.

"Mm… Yes?" Swindle answered sleepily.

"Swindle-bot needs to tell Wasp how to access the storage area." Wasp said. "Otherwise, he won't be able to get to the energon, and both are going to starve."

Swindle eyed him, considering his options. Well, on the one hand, Wasp was completely right. And if the little nuisance had made this much of an effort to keep him from offlining from fluid loss, electronic infections, and mechanical failure (not to mention those phantom barnacles of his) then chances were he wasn't going to withhold the energon once he got it.

But then again, on the other hand, he really didn't like the idea of Wasp in his ship's storage area. After all, he didn't want him spilling, ruining, or eating up the valuable energon and oil he stored there. It was times like these that he wished he could just keep the stuff in his private alternate-dimensional storage, but if he did that, the energon would become dangerously unstable, and eventually would probably blow up either Swindle or all of his merchandise.

Most people would consider that a bad thing if it happened to them, Swindle included. However, most people would also consider that a good thing if it happened to Swindle, Swindle excluded.

*****

Wasp watched Swindle quietly as he waited for the merchant to answer. Ah, of course. He was so greedy that he had to sit and think about whether he'd rather starve or risk losing a little money through property damage.

The ex-Autobot sighed. Nothing could be more quintessentially 'Swindle-bot'.

Seeing as he probably wasn't going to be getting an answer anytime soon, Wasp decided to change the subject, at least for now. Swindle would change his mind when he started to get hungry; he cared too much about his own welfare not to. Even the prospect of money wasn't worth the greedy merchant's life… At least, Wasp hoped that was the case.

"So Swindle-bot," Wasp started, "Got nothing better to do. Tell Wasp more about where Swindle-bot comes from."

He groaned inwardly. How he hated the sound of his own voice!

Swindle frowned as if the very question offended him. "Really Wasp, is now the time?"

"Well, Swindle-bot got nothing better to do." Wasp repeated. "Besides, if he can tell Wasp all about space barnacles down here, then why can't he talk about where he came from?"

Swindle knew he had a point, and Wasp could see it in the irritated look he took on; optics not meeting his own, the edge of his mouth pouted slightly. It was a rarely-seen expression, and usually could be seen only when a customer noticed that his merchandise wasn't quite worth asking price.

"Well, because it's really not a story for telling when the mood's already so low!" Swindle said, pitching it in that smooth, cheerful salesman voice. "Why don't we talk about something, you know, a little more light-hearted?"

"Don't give Wasp that." Wasp replied. "Wasp wants to know the rest of the story. Where did Swindle-bot grow up? How did his other progenitor get by? And does it got anything to do with Swindle-bot being a salesbot?"

Swindle blew air through his vents, but kept up his pitching voice. "What's it matter? The past's all in the past, so let's keep it that way!"

"Because Wasp is curious. He's been travelling with Swindle-bot for a while now and wants to know more about him."

"Well why can't you ask something simpler?" Swindle complained, still speaking in the same sweet tones. "Like what my favorite color is, or what weapons I prefer? You know, simple things!"

"Swindle-bot's favorite color is purple, duh." Wasp countered, feeling a bit smug. "And Wasp doesn't care much about weapons these solar cycles."

"Now, you're just assuming that I'm vain enough to like purple because of my own coloring. My favorite color is green." The merchant stated rather matter-of-factly.

Wasp eyed him. "Swindle-bot just made that up to prove Wasp wrong."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because Swindle-bot just said the color of the first thing his optic fell on. Which is Wasp's plating."

"You're sharp, you know that?"

"Yeah, and Swindle-bot's favorite color is purple."

Swindle had nothing to say to that.

In spite of this small digression, Wasp had not forgotten where he was trying to go with this. Swindle could try all he wanted to steer the conversation away, but one way or the other, the ex-Autobot was going to get his answers.

Whether it was plain curiosity or a desire to get to know his temporary traveling partner just a little better, now that Wasp had made his mind up on the matter, there was simply no changing it.

"So, Swindle-bot tell Wasp where he came from now."

Swindle's expression fell. He'd probably thought his evasion technique had worked this time. Better luck next time, Wasp thought smugly.

Swindle blew air quietly out his vents again, and his salesman voice faded away to be replaced by his normal speech. It wasn't too different, but it lacked most of the gloss and catch-phrase terminology, and Wasp could appreciate that.

"You're really bent on getting me to tell you, aren't you, Wasp?" Swindle sighed.

Wasp nodded.

"Well fine then." Swindle took on a dark grin, and Wasp braced himself for whatever he'd say next. "But you can't expect to get something for nothing, now can you? Why don't you tell me a little about yourself, Wasp? I've got more than a few questions myself, you little nuisance."

Wasp glared at the merchant. "Wasp saved Swindle-bot's stupid function, isn't that good enough?"

"Wasp only did it to preserve his own function." Swindle countered mockingly.

It took a good deal of self-restraint not to smack the salesman, but that didn't change the fact that he had a point. Wasp didn't really have much room to argue, so he was stuck with simply going along with it. What other options did he have?

"Fine. Wasp agrees. But he goes first too."

"Fair enough," Swindle said. "Shoot."

*****

Swindle tried to remind himself that this was all for money.

Soon his little travelling companion would be taken off his hands by some fat, lonely rich mech with nothing better to do, to use however he saw fit. And when that happened, Swindle would never see the striped nuisance again, and it would never even matter what he told him because his new owner probably wouldn't ever listen to a thing Wasp said.

Somehow, the scenario was seeming less and less appealing. Perhaps Swindle thought, he was just starting to feel that "it's cute, let's keep it" tug that had nudged at him after he'd first taken in the little bugger and found him sleeping. How long ago had that been now…?

Ah, he was getting off-track. The issue at hand here was having to talk about his past, and that was something he simply couldn't stand having to do. There was little, in fact, that he hated more. There were memories there that he would rather not rouse.

But it should be worth it, in the long run. He'd learn a little more about Wasp, and use that information to help him refine and tame the creature, and that would pay off big time. Swindle steeled himself for the impending questions and the difficult conversation that would inevitably follow.

"So first, where was Swindle-bot sparked?"

Of course. Blackest question he could've gone with and Wasp decided to go right on down that road. Well, as long as he tread lightly, maybe he wouldn't be forced to go into the gory details.

"It was a quaint little place," Swindle answered slowly, sarcasm tainting his melodic voice, "called Polyhex."

"Polyhex?" Wasp echoed incredulously. "The Decepticon settlement? Wasp may not have paid much attention in history, but he thought it didn't exist anymore."

"Oh, I'd hardly call it a settlement." Swindle answered. "But nobody said I spent my whole life there, either."

"So then, where did you stay?" Wasp asked, awe in his voice.

"Ah-ah," Swindle chided. He wagged his finger slightly. "Don't you remember our little deal? Now I get to ask you a question."

"Wasp's listening."

"What exactly were you in prison for?"

Wasp bristled. A look of absolute fury crossed his faceplate before slowly simmering to a snarl to the tune of audible, heavy breaths through his vents. Apparently, this was a fairly touchy subject with his companion. But as Swindle was about to find out, he had more than a little to say on the matter.

"Wasp was in prison for something he didn't do. It was all Bumble-bot's fault; if it weren't for him, Wasp would've had a normal life, would've been in the Elite Guard, made Prime by now… But no! Wasp was framed as a traitor, and sentenced to spend entire function in prison! Wasp never did anything to deserve that, and now look at him! That's why Wasp needs to find Bumble-bot, and he will…"

Wasp trailed off, looking embarrassed.

"Nevermind." He said. "It's just a hard thing for Wasp to talk about."

"Apparently." Swindle responded, blinking. Whatever he had been expecting, it certainly wasn't an outburst like that.

"Maybe this was bad idea." Wasp said, his voice almost uncharacteristically quiet.

"Ah, just forget about it. It's no big deal, right?" Swindle said brightly, flashing Wasp a winning smile.

Wasp frowned down at him before turning away.

"Swindle-bot still needs medical attention, know it? How's Wasp gonna get him there?"

"I can change the course from down here." Swindle answered. "Got this very convenient remote control, see, as long as I can authorize the commands, the navigational equipment will do whatever I want."

"Makes sense." Wasp said. "Let Wasp guess; ship's already headed there?"

"You'd be correct."

Wasp snorted and busied himself checking over Swindle's wounds and changing the dressing on some of them. Lockdown had gotten fairly carried away, and the merchant had cuts and scratches all over his body.

For several cycles, silence reigned over the room.

"So, Wasp." Swindle said at last, staring idly up at the ceiling.

"Yes, Swindle-bot?" Wasp answered, not glancing up from his work.

"Let me give you the access codes for the storage room."

Wasp looked up then. Their optics met, purple reflecting in purple, and gazes lingered. But just as suddenly as the moment began, it ended, Wasp turning away to look back down at his work.

"Wasp knew Swindle-bot would give in, once he got hungry." He said rudely.

"It's just that I realized a fairly simple truth." Swindle stated.

"Oh? And what's that?"

"You have no idea how long it's going to be before we reach the next planet," Swindle said. "For all you know, it could be lunar cycles. Right?"

"Wasp follows. But if it was lunar cycles, Swindle-bot would be long since offline by then."

Swindle gave him a look, but chose to ignore the comment. "Well, all the same, you aren't going to eat up our supplies before we reach it; you're too smart for that. Or well, your instincts wouldn't let you. Something like that."

Wasp looked up at him again, this time wearing a rather self-satisfied smirk.

"Swindle-bot just called Wasp 'smart'." He said, giving a snort of amusement. Something along the lines of a laugh protoform that didn't quite make it to adulthood.

"Enjoy it," Swindle retorted, putting on an exaggerated mock pout, "because it ain't happening again."

This time, the laugh grew up and then some.