Hi, all - this is my first completed Transformers fic! And my new OTP, huzzah. Rated "R" for implied slashy mech-sex and some non-earth swearing.

"blah!" talking over internal radio/comms

Captain Fanzone was tired, sure, but completely satisfied with a job well done. Not only had every major pesky human crook in his city been caught, but those Autobots (not too bad, really, for machines) had helped in bagging some new Decepticon-wacko.

So pleased with the night, he had half-expected the Autobots to joke back with him on the good cop / bad cop routine, but shrugged it off when all he got was a confused look from the big green one and just a weird silence from the rest.

Ah, oh well. For now, it was a good night's work. He'd zip down to the impound next chance he got to start the trial procedures for the Decepticon. Fanzone may hate machines, but this one was a living… thing, and so deserved due process of the law. The hard part he'd leave to the judge: figuring out just how and where to incarcerate the car once he was convicted.

Unfortunately for Swindle, he took Fanzone's threat to spark.

While his body was paralyzed, his processors were still running and, as he quickly realized, the radiation-absorbing gel he'd acquired from Curtlepod scientists had effectively protected his internal communications array.

Unfortunately again, Megatron wasn't answering, he wouldn't trust either the Autobots or Starscream as far as a single-limbed Lillputianite could throw him, and that left only one other mech close enough to help.

Lockdown.

Swindle was stalling, he knew, but defended it to himself by calling it a "gathering of courage." Still, time was short, he was sure, so better to just get it over with.

He hailed the frequency.

Bzzz-!

"What do you want, Swindle?"

"Lockdown, old friend! Is that any way to greet a business associate? Wouldn't - here, I'll demonstrate - 'How are you?' be more appropriate?"

"It would if I weren't about to recharge." A pause, some scuffling background noises. "Fine. How are you, Swindle?"

"…Eh, heh. Actually, I was hoping you might do me a favor."

"A favor? For you, Swindle? I'm afraid any action on my part will require compensation on yours. A deal, you know. But tell me what you need."

"Yes, well. I'm on Earth, but a certain business maneuver… went awry, we'll say, and now I am literally stuck in alt-form and imprisoned by humans. So-"

"So you want me to rescue you." Lockdown interrupted. "On Earth." He paused again; Swindle waited. "You're lucky I'm still in the area."

"My good friend, Lockdown! Does that mean you'll come?"

"No, not necessarily. Let's discuss payment first."

"Certainly! My ship is on the local moon - you can have your pick of weapons! I've got a Gamma-4 class-"

"Swindle," Lockdown interrupted again, "you know what I want."

The inert arms dealer faltered. "Err, I - ah… That's… a little out of my league, if you know what I mean. How about a collection of antique null-rays?"

"No. I don't need any weapons right now. And I guess you don't really need me to come get you…."

Swindle, hearing the bored and utterly nonchalant tone from the bounty hunter, was approaching panic.

"They're planning to deactivate me!" he wailed. "If I die, then you'll never-"

"Can't mourn what you've hardly known, Swindle."

"But… but…."

"And I suppose with you gone, I can expand my own business to fill your pedes. After all, all those clients of yours will be left with no-one to sell their technology to. That should fill out the bounty-hunting quite nicely."

"Y-you…." If he could have, Swindle would have ground his dental plates in frustration.

"It was nice knowing you, Swindle. I'm sure you know what bots to say 'hi' to for me in the Well of Sparks."

Frag. Well, screwed was better than dead.

"FINE!! Fine, all-right, you win! I agree! But you have to actually come help me first!"

Swindle could hear the smirk in Lockdown's reply. "I'm already en route."

What? "You mean, you-"

"Already knew your predicament? No, not exactly. But I could guess the tide of things when you asked for Megatron's frequency."

Swindle let that settle into his processors.

"You are an evil, conniving son of a glitch, Lockdown."

The bounty hunter laughed. "Hey now, you're the one who wears the Decepticon mark, not me."

Swindle's muttered reply was nigh unintelligible.

It was dark outside - deep night in this slice of Earth. Perfect for sneaking around the humans, what few were out at this hour, and they couldn't see in the dark anyway. Homing in on Swindle's energy signature was only too easy.

The arms dealer, indeed disguised as some local vehicle, was parked in a police impound lot with bright yellow clamps fitted to each of his four wheels. He was near the entrance gate, but was doused in portable floodlights. Not the most secure of positions (even for humans), but certainly visible.

Lockdown couldn't help but notice that the lighting angles were very flattering on the green mech.

"Lockdown! Thank you for arriving so quickly! I sincerely appreciate…."

But the bounty hunter adeptly tuned Swindle out, by now well used to the other's verbosity. Instead, he turned his attention to the yard, picking out primitive recording devices, and following their buried leads to the same construct that the lights were attached to. Simple. A quick shot destroyed the building, cutting off all power to the lot.

"I can remove those clamps here, but I'm going to have to tow you back to my ship to get you to transform. Surely something there can get your circuits… unscrambled."

Swindle's sigh was purely mental, but Lockdown could feel it anyway. "Yes, fine. Do what you must."

And so, in short order, the wheel clamps were gone, and a hook was wedged under Swindle's rear axel. As Lockdown's hand brushed along the back bumper, he would have sworn he could feel the arms dealer tense from the contact.

He transformed back to his own vehicle mode, and they were gone.

"One more tweak, and… there."

With a moan of relief, Swindle tumbled out into his bipedal form, sprawled across the floor. He stretched his limbs before self-consciousness hit him, and he sat up.

"Thank you, Lockdown. That was a most uncomfortable predicament."

Lockdown shrugged, turning to put the device he'd used back up on a shelf. "No problem, really. We were lucky those Autobots didn't show up. They don't seem to take kindly to escaped Decepticons."

Swindle looked up at him, a small frown on his face. "Is that ragtag group of bots really so proficient at being a bother?"

"They managed to stop a Starscream not so long ago. That has to count for something."

"A Starscream?" Swindle asked, blinking.

"Long story, really."

"…Right."

As silence fell, the arms dealer took the time to look around this part of Lockdown's ship, cataloguing the different trophies he'd collected and noting what weapons he had available that could compliment the bounty hunter's already impressive arsenal. After all, you never knew when an opportunity for a trade would arise.

When his optics finally traveled back to Lockdown, he found the taller mech looking right at him. It was almost as unnerving as being paralyzed by humans.

Swindle forced himself to not look down. "I suppose you want your payment now?" All too aware that he was vulnerable, still sitting on the floor like this.

Lockdown shrugged again, but did not actually answer.

"Well…" slag, was this awkward! "Come take it, then." It was only eons of practice in dealing with tense situations that kept his voice steady and expression calm.

"Swindle," Lockdown started, and stepped forward, kneeling beside the arms dealer. He reached out, slowly, with his left hand, carefully palming the other's cheek. "First of all, I am not about to take anything. Second, why don't we start with talking. You can tell me why you're so against this."

"It's bad business," Swindle replied, without hesitation. He reached up to swat the hand away. "I can't let emotions interfere in a deal, nor can I show favor to any one client. It is highly unprofessional behavior." He let an angry frown cross is face.

"You and I both know that neither of us is going to let emotion interfere with business, even on the slim possibility the two ever intersect. And as for favor - well, I won't tell anyone if you don't, so who's to know?" Lockdown kept his face straight, but his optics glinted with amusement. "Give me a better reason."

Dental plates ground. "We don't love each other!" The look on his face with that comment could have been called a pout.

Lockdown barked out a laugh before settling into a smirk. "That didn't stop us at the Rusted Wrench."

Swindle scowled fiercely, crossing his arms over his chest. "We were both overcharged then, and you know it!"

Shaking his head in amusement, Lockdown lifted his hand again, this time tracing the plating seams on the other's arms. "Not that overcharged. You knew what you were doing, and don't deny that." He leaned in closer. "Try again."

It was only great strength of will that kept Swindle from leaning back. He had to keep a show of self-confidence.

"Fine. I don't trust you."

"Ah-hah. The crux of the issue." Lockdown let his hand slide lower, and began gently fiddling with the wires under Swindle's hip plating. "Yet you trust me enough to save you from deactivation, when you were even more vulnerable than you are now?"

"Stop that!" He swatted at the wandering hand again. "And I called you last!"

"You still called me," Lockdown almost singsonged. "Did you honestly think the Autobots - those law-loving fools - would really allow you to be deactivated without trial, even on an alien planet?"

"With Megatron there, I wouldn't put them past resorting to desperate measures."

Lockdown shook his head. "Weak reasoning, at best." He leaned back, then stood again, turning to a worktable with various parts scattered about. Idly, he began sorting them. "No, Swindle, you've just shown me that you trust me with your life, however much not in danger it was. I think the real issue here is that you don't trust yourself."

The idea was so absurd that Swindle found himself on his feet before he even realized he was moving. He approached the worktable as well. "That's preposterous! I'm the only person I have to trust!"

"I mean that you don't trust yourself around me." Lockdown looked sideways at him, smirking again. "That you don't trust yourself to behave normally, or to not let some leverage slip, or, and Primus forbid, you don't trust yourself to just relax and enjoy it."

"I know how to relax!" Would that smirk ever go away?!

"Show me."

Irrationally incensed, Swindle stretched up, reached his hands around Lockdown's head, and pulled him down for a rough and angry kiss.

Much, much later, Swindle onlined, finding himself sprawled atop Lockdown's chassis, the both of them in a berth. Muzzily, he looked up, and frowned as he became aware of the bounty hunter's hook scrawling lazy circles across his aft. Below him, the other mech chuckled, sending (rather pleasant) vibrations up through his own frame.

"You and I are going to have to make a lot more deals if this is what I get out of them."

Swindle blinked.

"I hate you, you evil, conniving son of a glitch." Then he let his head fall back to the chassis below him, spent.