Title: Lease or Buy

Warning: Pet play

Rating: PG

Continuity: G1

Characters: Swindle, Combaticons, Thundercracker, Astrotrain, Reflector, Soundwave, Constructicons

Disclaimer: The theatre doesn't own the script or actors, nor does it make a profit from the play.

Motivation (Prompt): A kinkmeme request ( . ?thread=8406153#t8406153) + writing warm-ups and a need for something no-pressure to write.


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Part Eleven

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Negotiations took another half an hour. Soundwave, as it turned out, couldn't be suckered in by Swindle simpering. Picking at the dirt in his tires while looking adorable worked to soften the mech up, but not straight-out simpering. The merchant emerged from the bargaining process with a contract of limitations but without enough money to buy Tahiti. A few islands, sure, but not the whole enchilada. That was somewhat disappointing.

At least he got the contract. Swindle's cute grubbiness lost momentum with Soundwave when he put his foot down over the Cassetticons. Soundwave agreed to the clause against using his telepathy readily enough, but he didn't like the insistence on his dock being empty. Well, tough. Swindle insisted. Entertaining the Comm. Officer was fine and dandy, but no way in the Pit would Swindle play pet while that nest of punks and predators seethed inside the mech. They'd probably watch and comment the whole while. The idea alone creeped the Jeep out.

"Astrotrain pays extra when he takes me for walks," he pointed out quite reasonably. "Bringing me out in public costs because I'm giving a free show to everyone. You want me to give a free pass to a bunch of symbiotic-connection participants? Not going to happen without cash up front."

Soundwave looked down upon him, visor narrow. "Price already exorbitant."

"I'm sorry you feel that way." The sweetest smile spread across the Jeep's face. "I'll just head to the washracks, shall I?" No rubber off his tires if Soundwave decided not to go through with the deal.

No such luck. The taller Decepticon put up a hand, asking him to wait. The red visor darkened, a gleam of white traveling from left to right across it as Soundwave evidently spoke with his mob. When he focused on Swindle again, that visor held a calculating look. "Proviso accepted if Swindle agrees to remain in room for full 24 hour time period."

The merchant sighed and nodded. "All 24 hours." 24 hours locked in a room with Soundwave. Someone get the trampoline so he could jump for joy.

After signing the contract, they went their separate ways. Swindle needed half an hour to double-check that the funds had transferred and weren't traceable. Stolen money was all well and good, but money that could be tracked back to him was useless. Soundwave needed to 'make preparations,' a vague phrase that alarmed the merchant. The agenda Soundwave had laid out looked harmless - bath, drying, recharge, polishing, nap, possible repeat plus playtime - but Swindle kept getting heebie-jeebies while pondering what exactly could go wrong this time around.

He was no stranger to calculated risk. He made himself a defenseless target every time he entered a session, but this time the anxiety kept climbing. There was a vast difference between playing pet for Thundercracker and doing the same for Soundwave. Soundwave could not only make sure that his body was never found, but also that nobody even thought to look for him.

His jitters built right until the door to Soundwave's quarters opened. Swindle looked at Soundwave, who looked the same as always if not even more stoic than normal. Then he looked past Soundwave and saw the tub.

For the first time in two hours, he relaxed.

If big bad Decepticons could have kiddie pools, this thing was the right size for it. No public washracks for a precious pet, apparently. Soundwave's preparations must have included getting the bath ready, and it did look ready. Hilariously, over-the-top ready. Foam stood a meter and a half over the edge of the giant, knee-high inflatable pool. The thing looked like it was made of tire rubber, and it took up half the room.

He hadn't seen a proper oil bath since Darkmount drained its officers' washracks when rationing went into effect. This was no pool of hot oil, but the sheer amount of effort that must have gone into making a tub on this dustball planet convinced Swindle this session was benign. He finally believed Soundwave's interest to be the real deal. Where the frag had Soundwave found it, how had he filled it, and by Swindle's bouncy Jeep suspension system, how was the slagger going to empty it?

He shook the thoughts from his head as the Comm. Officer stood aside to let him in. The silent invitation had hints of wariness about it, as if Soundwave thought he was about to bolt, but Swindle walked inside without hesitation. He brought up the session request list as he did so. Swindle had a list of various primitive creatures from the galaxy he'd compiled for his clients to peruse, and Soundwave had requested a combination of general felinoid, cyberhound, and rather odd choice: tubeferret. Not that they weren't all tamer, less violent creatures prone to bolting instead of biting, but the odd part was that Soundwave had highlighted the Earth equivalents.

Cybertron had exterminated most of its wildlife. Animals were plentiful on Earth, leading to a lot of cohabitation. Humans relished sharing their lives with creatures of lower intelligences. Pets never caught on back on Cybertron partly because of the scarcity of wildlife, partly because pets were seen as a status symbol. Domestication hadn't been popular except among the very rich, who could afford rare creatures and were used to bestowing affection upon sentient belongings: social inferiors. Maybe that's why Swindle's little off-duty gimmick had such a following. The idea of dumb, unconditional adoration in return for simple, basic care appealed to even Decepticons. Or maybe especially to Decepticons.

Swindle didn't think Soundwave would go through this much effort to mess with him. Meaning that this really was nothing more than a session from a mech who wanted what the merchant had to offer.

His priority list reshuffled as he calmed. Tilting his head, the shorter mech blinked up at the Comm. Officer. Specific behavioral pattern subroutines popped up on his HUD, ready to be selected, and Swindle slid into the right mindset despite how tired and filthy he felt at the moment.

The door closed behind him. The taller Decepticon didn't relax, but his shoulders did go down slightly. "Come here, Swindle," that notorious monotone voice ordered dispassionately. Hands carefully reached for him, still tentative. Soundwave obviously expected him to shove the money back in the original account and run for it.

The conmech activated the filter over his vocalizer and selected the felinoid behaviorism subroutine. "What do you want me to do?" came out as an inquisitive, "Mrrr?"

The boxy blue mech just - stopped. A few seconds of staring passed, and the dull red light of his visor lit brightly. Swindle made sure not to grin. He knew that look. Hesitating hands suddenly gained confidence, and Swindle repeated his questioning, "Mrrr?" when they tugged him up against the larger mech.

Soundwave picked him up. It was somewhat awkward since the Jeep was 2/3rds the other mech's size, but Astrotrain liked to carry him around, too. He knew how to make it easier. Easier, that was, in the way of technimals everywhere. Once his weight left the ground, he went limp and purred his engine smugly as he spilled right back out of Soundwave's startled hold.

The small grounder promptly poured to the ground in the strutless manner of felinoids galaxy-wide. "Mrrr?" Pretty purple optics looked up at the speechless mech from the floor where Swindle sat, hands on the floor and aft planted between his ankle tires. "Why did you drop me?"

Pretending to lose interest, he ducked down to rub his helm against one arm. "Owwwr!" he complained as Soundwave took the presented opportunity to wrap his arms around his middle and try picking him up again. "Rowr owr rowwwr," Swindle complained, going limp and letting himself be gathered up. "Noooo, can't you see I was busy? I have a full schedule today!"

Only when Soundwave had him in his arms did Swindle start squirming. A few disgruntled noises and some kicking later, he was cradled instead of dangled. His legs bent, knees tucking up to his grill to make himself smaller. "Prrrowr?" Elbows tucked close, Swindle curled his hands underneath his chin and widened his optics in an innocent gaze up at his temporary owner. "Look at me being all cute. Is this what you want?"

Held to Soundwave's chest like this, he could hear fans stall, and Soundwave stopped dead in mid-stride. The most helpless look Swindle had ever seen crossed the officer's face, mask or not. And it definitely wasn't his imagination that the arms around him tightened in an involuntary squeeze. Yup, dead on the money: this was what Soundwave wanted.

"…good," Soundwave said in a strangled voice. "Good pet."

He was such a good pet, yes he was. Swindle snuggled against the mech's tapedeck and let his engine start a rough purr. Soundwave made a non-sound - there was no other way to describe it other than a soundless burst of "..!" - and carried him toward the tub. Through a slitted optic, Swindle kept track of how close they were as he kneaded his hands against Soundwave's chest.

The Comm. Officer knelt, trying not to jostle him, and Swindle exploded into motion.

"Reeaaaaaaooowr!" Every vent fuffed. Fans hissed. The small grounder twisted around Soundwave's surprised hold and clawed away from the wet stuff. "Rowrawwr hsssssst!" Bad, horrible, weird-smelling wet stuff! Felinoids hated that!

Shocked to immobility by the sudden struggling, Soundwave froze. Swindle took the opportunity to successfully climb up over his arm and onto the larger Decepticon's shoulders, where he perched and commenced throwing a tantrum while the mech tried to turn his head enough to see him clearly. "No! No no no!" translated through the Jeep's vocalizer came out in a series of highly offended hisses and spitted yowls. It was tremendous fun to chew out a superior officer like this.

Soundwave sat still through Swindle giving him a piece of his mind like a housecat in a snit. Eventually, a hand ventured up. Swindle's engine howled a warning as he twisted to evade, but the hand persisted in seeking out his helm. It stroked, fingers rubbing in just the right way under the helm edge. Purple optics dimmed appreciatively, and the fingers tickled under his chin. A half-stuttered purr broke the steady growl in his throat.

The hand retreated and held out in offering. Still fuffing out every vent, Swindle butted his helm into it. "Rrrr." It scratched. His engine purred. "You're not forgiven, bringer of the wet stuff. But I will deign to let you pet me."

Soundwave kept it up long enough to ease both hands up, and then -

"ROWR!" Laughter tried to escape Swindle's vocalizer because this was too silly, but pet mech was most unamused by this turn of events. Pet mech splooshed into the bath in an ungraceful bellyflop, sending foam flying. On the inside, Swindle chuckled to himself as he analyzed the bath's contents. Water? Probably the most convenient choice considering how much solvent would have been needed to fill this pool, but it wasn't the most efficient. They did have the time, however, and Soundwave apparently wanted to take his time cleaning him.

Not that Swindle had to make it easy for him. "Reowr!" Now wet, slippery, and twice as hard to keep ahold of, he squirmed loose and surged toward the far side of the pool in a desperate bid for freedom. "Free!"

"No!" Hands grabbed the back of his neck and a shoulder tire, and Swindle made his displeasure known in a particularly loud yowl. "No. Swindle: desist struggling. Cleaning necessary," Soundwave said patiently over the racket. "Promise: will be nice. Calm down."

"Yrrraawwwrrrrr!" the frantic Jeep almost screamed. He batted at the hands holding him in the water. "I will die! The wet stuff will kill me! You're trying to kill me!"

"Temperature: pleasant," Soundwave coaxed, pushing him down against the stiff hydraulics of a panicking, unhappy pet mech. "Swindle: filthy. Will enjoy being clean. Soundwave: will take care of good pet." One hand tried to pet the smaller Decepticon, who almost writhed free in that moment of distraction. Soundwave renewed his grip. "Be good!"

That had been near an emotional outburst. Swindle subsided into the foam.

As soon as he stopped trying to escape, Soundwave's hands eased their hold. The Jeep eyed the far side of the tub, but they tightened in warning. Whining miserably - he would drown, couldn't his owner see that the nasty wet stuff would kill him? - Swindle slumped. Soundwave cautiously released him. When he didn't try to escape again, the big blue mech began setting out various bathing supplies. The pet mech sank down further in the foam and glowered from underneath their white, bubbly protection. His owner was in collusion with the wet stuff to kill him. He could tell.

"Grrrr," he warned the bottles of leather conditioner and non-bubblebath solvent mixtures Soundwave set on the tub edge. Was that a sponge? That was a sponge. It was as big as his head.

He'd admit it: he was in a much better mood, now. Swindle had the feeling things would only get better from here.

A moment later, he was happily splishing about in the bubbles as he switched subroutines from panicking felinoid to cyberhound in a greasepit. Bubbles! And water! This was the best! The small grounder dunked under the water chasing something only he could see, came up for air crowned in foam, and planted all four limbs in order to vigorously shake the excess water out from under his plating. It sprayed everything in the room, including the desk console.

A sneaky glance revealed that Soundwave didn't care about the soaking. Swindle caught the stoic Comm. Officer kneeling there watching him through a wide visor lightened to a color more pink than red. Oh, yeah. This was exactly what Soundwave wanted from him.

He dove toward his owner, splashing bellydown in the water and creating a swamping wave of water that sloshed over the tub edge as Swindle whined for petting. That fact that Soundwave didn't even react to the giant sploosh of water to the chest said more than the low croon of nonsense the officer gave as he obliged him. Aggressively pushing into the larger mech's chest, Swindle arched into the stroking hands and shared as much muddy water as he could. Sharing was caring, right?

He also stole the sponge, but Soundwave didn't notice that until Swindle sloshed out of reach across the pool with it between his teeth.

The double-take the not-so-emotionless communication specialist gave made everything worth it. A finger pointed sternly. "Swindle: return."

Swindle shook his head energetically and ran his engine in a loud, "Rrrrr." Mischievous purple optics looked up at his master over the sponge, and he tossed the sponge into the air to chase. "Play with me!"

"Rrrr!" he said again when Soundwave just knelt there staring at him. Crouching in the water, Swindle growled and shook the sponge some more before chomping on it. Kill the sponge! Kill it! "Play!"

"Swindle," the monotone was shaky and soft, "return." Soundwave's fingers curled slowly when the Jeep flopped over in the water and kept revving his engine at him. "Swindle. Bad pet. Desist."

Laughing inside, the conmech piled another layer of cute on and splayed his arms in front of himself, aft up and wagging slightly in the universal sign for an eager, happy creature who wanted someone to join the fun. He whined around the sponge. "Play with me?"

He could actually see Soundwave swallow, and the officer's fists lifted off the tub edge as self-control fought a losing battle against a mech who really wanted to play with the adorable pet mech. Pet mech shook his sponge again, growling to cover a snicker. He wasn't surrendering his makeshift toy. Soundwave would just have to come get it. There would be rolling about and tug-of-war. The officer would love it. And that's what Soundwave was afraid of.

Swindle had lost count of how many of his first-time clients he'd had to bait into having a good time. It's what they bought him for, but Decepticons didn't give up their dignity easily.

*squeak!*

What in the name of Primus..?

Shaking a little, poise abandoned, Soundwave held his hand up enticingly. "Swindle: return. Be good."

*squeak!* said the brightly-colored rubber toy. *squeak-squeak!*

He was going to laugh himself sick later over this. "Rowrf!" An armful of wriggling, licking, excited, playful Swindle threw himself at Soundwave, sponge forgotten.


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