Author Notes - Original movie by Pixar. Original story by Andrew Stanton and Pete Doctor. An AU of sorts. Also will probably end up being a love story that ships R2x3PO, so let that be your warning as to how silly this could get.

Just a small, fun, and perhaps silly project. I don't even know if anyone would read a WALL-E story starring R2-D2 and C-3PO, but darn it I'm writing it and I'm showing it off to the world. I almost didn't publish this, thinking that very few people would read a story with this idea. Eventually I realised 'if only three people read this and like it, that is still three more people that would have if I never published it'.

CHAPTER ONE - LONELY

Let me tell you a story, one that may be a little weird yet sweet (hopefully). It's about two droids, one a curious and resourceful astromech, and the other a fussy and timid diplomat. It's about how these two have different paths that somehow cross in the most amazing way.

This story begins on a planet. Life may have resided on this dustball of a planet at one point, but it certainly didn't anymore. Whatever was once on this planet had vanished into the sand and dust that now covered almost the entire surface. All that remains of any possible civilisation was piles of trash so big that, when combined, they'd be almost as big as the planet itself. The air was musty, filled with a horrid fog. Any inkling of greenery hadn't been seen for years.

The old relic of this planet in its prime was long forgotten, since the last time any sentient life had stepped foot, fin, or tail on its surface was about seven hundred years ago. Nothing could be heard, aside from the whistling of the old desert wind. Any footprints or vehicle tracks that may have existed in the sand no longer did, thanks to the harsh winds and sandstorms that ravaged the surface until no prints remained.

Except for one trio of treads.

Though these paths often got erased by the wind just like all the other tracks before, they would always return the next day. And the next day. And the day after that. The prints would always return, though perhaps not necessarily in the same place. The tracks travelled between the many, many, many tall piles of garbage, every day.

So how could such tracks reappear in spite of the fact that all life had been gone for seven centuries? The answer is so simple, you probably already know it.

'Mreep?'

The one who made the tracks was not 'life', as most would call it, but instead a little droid.

Picture a little astromech droid, by himself, standing by one smaller pile of trash. Thanks to the battering from the wind and sand, he wasn't exactly in the best state. The poor thing was covered in scraps and dirt, but he continued to run like the day he was pushed off the assembly line. This was an old R2 unit, who had been placed on this planet hundreds of years ago to 'scout'. Unfortunately for him, the people who dropped him here forgot about him.

'Woo!'

He opened up a compartment in his body, and a spindly metal arm extended out into the pile. Using his 'hand', he searched through the trash for anything interesting. After all, it wasn't like there was anything better to do. Luckily for little Artoo, nothing filled his dome with as much joy as digging through the garbage did. At least, he had grown to like it after centuries of the same thing.

He picked up an old key. Whatever door it unlocked no longer existed. The shininess of it past its rust attracted his attention. The shiny things always attracted him the most. Seeing such a sparkle in a world of dirt never got old.

The little astromech chucked the rusty key into a lunchbox he carried around with him every time he went out searching. Inside were already a few objects - a blaster completely lacking in ammo or ability to fire at all, a sword hilt without the laser that used to come out of it, and a couple of yellow dice attached by a string.

'Wuh?'

He reached into the garbage again, fiddling around a bit until he pulled out half of a hubcap. Hubcaps were rare on that planet, and its broken nature helped Artoo fit it into his lunchbox. Seeing that his lunchbox still had some room in it, he continued digging through. Most of the garbage was just the remains of the old buildings, which would be interesting if it weren't literally everywhere.

Was that a hyperdrive? Oh, it definitely was! Or, at least, a chunk of one that was beyond repair. Now THAT was a treasure! Artoo emitted all sorts of excited beeps and whistles as he dug it out of the pile, and carefully placed it in his lunchbox.

That piece of a hyperdrive ended up being a load-bearing piece, as the trash pile began to wobble and shake. Artoo simply picked up his box of spoils, and rolled away. Was he oblivious to the oncoming danger, or was he simply used to this? Most would see it as the former, but this astromech was surprisingly smart.

'Uh oh.'

Either way, he rolled out of the way of the trashy tower, before it collapsed to the ground behind him. A large dust cloud filled the air, but it was nothing he didn't deal with on a daily basis.

Collecting is what he did, and it was what he had done for centuries. His sapience may have been lacking when he was first dropped onto the planet, but all those years without a memory wipe did wonders.

Most would find tedium in such a, well, tedious task. But when it's all one can do, what else can one do but find joy in the tedium? Artoo knew that, sooner or later, he'd find every collectable on the planet. The star would probably blow up before then.

'Breep!'

He whistled a merry tune as he looked around for any kind of interesting object. He made sure to check the top of the piles too - if he had a jetpack, he was going to use it.

If this story sounds tedious so far... that was simply the life of this R2 unit. Whether it was shiny wedding rings, broken game consoles, or rusted trophies of great feats now irrelevant, day-in-and-day-out was a collectathon. A rather silent one too, considering that his cute beeps and whistles were the only thing anyone would hear, if they were around to hear it.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Artoo stopped in his tracks, pausing to process that beeping. These beeps were familiar to him, and unlike his usual sounds this one was never good. He turned his dome around 180 degrees and, well...

A giant sandstorm approached the tiny droid, swirling more and more dust and rocks into its cloud as it tore through the land. Like every other sandstorm on this dustbowl of a planet, it was approaching him fast.

'Mmmph...'

Anyone else would panic at the mere sight of such an unrelenting storm, but Artoo merely turned his dome back around, and engaged his jetpack - keeping that thing running after so long was the hard part. The astromech took to the skies, carrying his partially-full lunchbox with him. Though he didn't fly quite as fast as the sandstorm, he knew he had plenty of time to escape its wrath.

'Weee!'

As much as he didn't want to overuse the hard-to-maintain jetpack, he loved flying around. The view it granted him was just too good to pass up.

After only a few minutes of flying, he spotted his home in the distance. The abandoned storage hanger, despite being completely incapable of space travel for centuries, stood up against the raging storms surprisingly well. Its ramping entrance was still open, just as Artoo left it.

With the sandstorm getting uncomfortably close, he flew right through that open door. Merely being in his humble abode filled his circuits with a joy that most would think only 'organics' could experience. But, of course, the open door would do a cruddy job at keeping the sandstorm out.

'Wruuuruuu...' This sound was out of annoyance more than anything.

Placing his box of the newest treasure on the metallic floor, he spun around and plugged himself into the one part of the unit that still functioned properly. Spinning it around, he brought the ramp up and closed the door. Only little bits of dust got inside, and those particles fell to the floor forgotten. Not quite done yet, Artoo turned on the one working light in his home. The weak lightbulb hanging from the ceiling managed to light up most of the room.

This hanger wasn't just his home. It was also where he kept his collection. His very big collection. Any outsider would be in awe at all the things he had stacked on the shelves. Half-burnt candles, shoes that were falling apart, dolls missing limbs, springs, batteries, empty cans, parts of a statue he'd eventually put together like a puzzle, full cans of paint, soap, matchboxes... anything that society left behind, he had on display. All perfectly organised.

While the sandstorm raged outside, Artoo opened up his box with his latest finds. He picked up the half-a-hubcap, and placed it on the second shelf to the right, right next to his other half-a-hubcap. To his disappointment, they were not of the same hubcap.

Next was the lightsaber hilt, with a red crystal inside. Huh. Red. That was a new colour. He put it on the top shelf, next to the flashlights and with the other hilts. One was barely recognisable, but the other could summon a green blade for a few moments. Artoo learnt that the hard way.

He hung up the duo of dice on a small hook in the wall. They seemed important, but other than their shininess he couldn't tell what. Maybe someone had some attachment to them. Assuming that person was still alive - which Artoo highly doubted - he'd be sure to return them. Or anything else he had.

'Mmrr? Hoo... tweet!'

Judging by what he could process from his audio receptors, the sandstorm was still going on. And, from what the previous few thousand sandstorms had taught him, it'd be going on for at least another hour or so. He grumbled - that kinda shot down his plans for the day. Luckily, he had something else to do.

The droid rolled over to the back corner of his home, over to where he stored an old imagecaster. He had a ton of them in a box off to the side, but almost none of them actually worked. And even if they did, this one was special.

'Bip! Bidda bip!'

Artoo turned it on with the happiest little beep you'll ever hear. He rocked around on his legs in an adorable dance as the imagecaster came to life.

The holographic image projected with a quiet hum, and showed two humans who probably lived on this planet at one point. They were both adults, one a man and the other a woman. Judging by the scar over the man's eye and his rather defined shape, he was a warrior. The woman had her hair done up in a sophisticated style, and wore an outfit befitting a queen. Or a senator. Either worked.

Both humans smiled, and held hands in what could be best described as a dance. Oh the Maker, they looked happy. Like nothing else in the world mattered.

The imagecaster shifted to another picture, but the humans remained. Now, they seemed to be looking out a window together, content as could be. They leaned on each other, the man putting his arm on the woman's shoulders.

'Tweert hoo bip!'

Another image popped up. Now the couple were in each other's arms, looking into each other's eyes longingly. The man looked like the kind of guy who'd be a great father. Or would murder a bunch of kids. Artoo couldn't tell which, but both seemed equally likely.

As he studied that image - still doing his little dance - a sudden sadness overcame his circuits. His dance came to a stop. This was a feeling he was very used to.

Loneliness.

As much as he adored looking at this sweet couple - who almost certainly weren't around anymore - it made him feel, well, lonely. His constant collecting helped him focus on something else, but sooner or later he'd be reminded of one simple fact:

He was the only one left on the planet. Was he the only droid? He didn't count the broken husks of the other astromechs he occasionally took parts from.

'Mruuuuu...'

Artoo didn't turn the imagecaster off. How could he? The pictures of this mysterious, long-lost couple were too good. He stared at the woman, who the man seemed to love with all his - what did organics call it? - heart. He reached his 'arm' out, even though he knew it was just a hologram.

That was what he truly wanted. Not the woman herself, obviously. No need to take her away from her love, assuming she was even still alive. Something else.

A companion.

A friend.

An acquaintance.

A room-mate.

A love of his own.

Someone to care for. Someone he could give affection to. Someone who would love him back. Anyone.

But what were the chances of that? He may not have cared much for odds, but said odds were incredibly small. Who would visit that wasteland of a planet, after all this time?

He turned the imagecaster off. It was enough of that today. Sure, the sandstorm was still going, but he could spend time reorganising things. For instance, he needed to find a place for that spork. In between the spoons and forks may have been the most appropriate place, but it looked so out-of-place on its own.

BEEP-BEEP! BEEP-BEEP! BEEP-BEEP!

'Wuh? Mmm... zrrrt!'

Compared to his warning siren, this beeping was more quiet yet more annoying. Unlike the sandstorm beeps, this particular collection of sounds frustrated Artoo more than anything.

Emitting a sound rather similar to a human sighing, he drove himself up against the wall and grabbed a cable. He set himself on the floor, and plugged himself in. That 'low-power' beeping stopped immediately as power travelled through the cable and into his batteries.

Considering that the sandstorm still had a while until it ended, and it was getting late anyway... Yeah, he could power-down for now. He set his 'alarm' to go off in a few hours, and drifted off to his equivalent of organic 'sleep'.

Author Notes - Turns out the scenes of WALL•E searching through garbage translate poorly to text, at least without sounding rather boring.