Chapter Text
Pharma had a problem.
A very big problem that was about to blow up in his face.
Their workplace at the Deltaran Medical Facility was taking part in the yearly medical conference being held this weekend. It was a three day event. Although in Pharma’s opinion the real important part of the medical conference was technically starting tomorrow when presentations of new medical research would be shared. This evening’s event was all about networking and trying to entice as many senators into funding their hospital. Though Pharma understood the importance of acquiring funding and networking, it did not mean he particularly enjoyed it. He would honestly rather be spending that time learning and inventing new surgical techniques than trying to fake a smile as someone inevitably mentioned how exotic it was to see a jet with forged medic hands.
Ratchet had sent him a comm a few days earlier about the event that he’d horribly jumped to conclusions about because he was hopeful to the point of stupidity.
Let’s meet in front of the hotel building and we can go inside together. It’ll be easier that way instead of trying to find each other in the lobby full of people.
He’d assumed he and Ratchet would be going together, but apparently he’d misunderstood the message the other had sent him. Pharma wanted to go together and maybe even have it considered to be a date so badly that he had not thought to ask any follow up questions or clarifications. He just replied that it sounded good and worked for him. He then proceeded to go fly and do loops in the air at what he thought was progress on getting his crush to like him back. Maybe even that Ratchet already liked him back if he was being hopeful. He’d asked him to be his date to the event after all or so he thought.
He’d read too much into it and then proceeded to dig himself into an even bigger hole. He was still replaying the disaster of a conversation he just had with Ratchet a few minutes ago.
“Orion and I are in front of the building. We got here a bit earlier than expected,” said Ratchet over the comm line.
“Orion?” asked Pharma, with confusion.
“I don’t remember if you’ve officially met him, he’s the captain of the station here in Rodion and a good friend of mine. I got him to agree to come with me as my date. I still can’t believe they’re requiring us to bring a date this year just because some senators want to play some trivia game for tonight’s entertainment. By the way, who are you bringing?” asked Ratchet.
“Who am I bringing? It’s a surprise!” exclaimed Pharma with a nervous laugh.
“Pharma? You alright, you sound a bit off? Were you not able to find someone to go with you?” asked Ratchet.
That stung his pride even if it was true.
“Thank you for that vote of confidence,” replied Pharma sarcastically.
“If you must know I’m just a bit nervous because the person I’m bringing is someone I’ve been dating for a while and it’ll be the first time I’m introducing them to everyone. Anyway I have to go meet them now so I’ll see you later,” lied Pharma, before quickly ending the call.
It was only after he hung up that he realized the gravity of what he had just done out of impulse.
Most people would just call up one of their other friends to accompany them. Except he didn’t have any other friends outside of Ratchet and that was a depressing thought in and of itself.
If he showed up alone though he might just die from embarrassment, especially after boldly claiming he had not only a date but a partner he was in a relationship with for a while now.
A partner who didn’t exist.
He couldn’t fake an illness to not show up. Ratchet would know he was faking and if he tried to modify himself with an easily fixed temporary virus Ratchet would know he’d done it to himself because he was as good as Pharma was as a doctor. Tricking his other coworkers was one thing, tricking Ratchet was another thing entirely. He also couldn’t do something more drastic that would take him out for the entire event as he was presenting the next day on his research and he would rather present with a missing leg and wing than miss it.
He was desperate enough to even try an online dating app to find someone who could pretend to be his fake date, but life truly must have hated him because the site said it was down for maintenance due to server problems until further notice.
He started looking around the street he was standing in. He had indeed hit the point of desperation that he was willing to ask random people off the streets.
There were two bots across the street, but it was obvious that wasn’t going to work as they were clearly together already by the way they were making out. The street was pretty empty because his luck was apparently the worst.
He heard a small bell chime to his left as an orange bot with clawed servos and a singular optic exited the small music store situated there.
He didn’t care what the bot looked like at this point. Tall, short, flyer, or grounder. They could be the most beautiful bot in existence or the ugliest thing Primus had created. His standards were alive and willing at this point.
Damus stared forlornly at the gramophone on display in the shop window.
He'd been saving up for so long to get it and a few more shifts at his job would have finally been enough to purchase it. He’d had to beg the owner not to sell it to anyone else. The owner of the store had already extended the deadline multiple times, but there was another interested buyer and this was his last chance. It was on hold, but only until next week.
Except he’d been fired. It was his stupid outlier ability. He’d accidentally broken the equipment at his job.
One too many accidents, but he knew they were already looking for any excuse to get rid of him. No one wants an empurata’ed bot around, especially a defective one who broke everything around him.
It would be impossible now to find a new job in time to get the shanix needed to purchase the item he wanted.
He was still looking at the gramophone when he felt a tall shadow fall over him. Damus tensed as a figure approached and loomed over him.
“Pardon the intrusion, but how much would I need to pay you to spend an evening with me?” asked the stranger.
”I’m not that type of bot. I’m not some kind of shareware you can just buy off the street, if you’re looking for an interfacing partner find someone else,” said Damus tightly.
He was desperate, but not desperate enough for that. And he’d heard stories. Bad ones. The type of bots who sought out empurata victims. Many disappeared without a trace or their dead bodies were found in pieces. No one cared either.
The bot before him was a tall jet with a sleek build and polish. The symbols on the bot’s wings marked him as a medic. Though that didn’t guarantee anything. He could be pretending to be a medic or he could be a medic with some type of sick fantasy he wanted to play out. Either way Damus did not want to stick around to find out.
“Oh that came out wrong! I didn’t mean it like that!” exclaimed the jet, realizing what kind of proposition his words sounded like.
“Look I’ll be honest because I don’t have the time to put this more eloquently. I made a stupid mistake and lied about having a date to this work event that’s mandatory. I need someone to be my fake date and pretend like we’ve been together for a while. No interfacing required. We’d maybe need to hold servos, hug, or at most a kiss on the cheek. It starts in thirty minutes. There will be free food and drinks. And I can pay you or do you a favor within reason in exchange. Just name your price,” said the other bot.
Damus was about to refuse, but for a split second his head turned toward the gramophone thinking about how he could ask for the shanix needed to reach his goal before looking away again. No it wasn’t worth dying over. He could end up getting killed before even getting to use it.
“That thing? Is that what you want? If I get it for you will you agree to come with me?” pressed Pharma, catching the look the other had sent its way.
Gramophones were old and out of date. They were a bit ancient or vintage for those who were collectors of such things. Most places didn’t make them anymore with the plethora of other ways to play music. They were seen more as novelties, but some folks did like owning one. However, since they weren’t really made anymore the remaining ones were quite pricey. Of course if you were wealthy enough you could always hire someone to make you one.
Damus had been lucky to find a used one being sold. It was near mint condition and even within a reasonable price for the item. He would still need to save up for a while to purchase it as it was still quite expensive, but it was doable.
Damus loved music, but his outlier ability meant that any music player he had was always at risk of being destroyed. A gramophone however did not run on any type of electricity. It would be a worthwhile investment for someone like him. A music player that he couldn’t break.
“What’s the address of this place? I want to make sure it’s real before agreeing to follow you to an unknown location,” questioned Damus against his better judgement.
“That’s fair. It’s for a three day medical conference being held at a hotel here in the city. I’ll send you the address as well as give you my private comm link,” said the jet.
Damus received a ping with the address.
It was an upscale hotel in the better part of the city. He checked the hotel’s website and list of events. There did seem to be some type of medical conference being hosted there this weekend according to the hotel’s schedule. Though he was still on guard, the medic’s claims seemed legitimate.
He really did want that gramophone.
“Alright you have a deal,” agreed Damus.
“Wonderful! What’s your designation?” asked the jet.
“Damus.”
“My designation is Pharma. Now let’s get this music player of yours and get going,” said Pharma, walking into the store with Damus following in behind.
“You again? I’ve told you already that I can’t keep it on hold for you much longer. There’s an interested buyer who actually has the money for it and I have to make a living too. Next week’s deadline is final,” said the store owner when he saw Damus.
“That won’t be a problem then since we’ll be purchasing the item today,” declared Pharma.
The store owner looked up at Pharma in surprise. The owner clearly hadn’t thought the two were in here together. Considering the confident way the jet held himself and the clean polish and paint of his frame in contrast with Damus’ more scuffed paint and the way he fiddled nervously with his conspicuous claws it wasn’t unreasonable to think the two did not run in the same circles.
“Well? Are you going to wrap up the item or just stand there gawking at us? I have places to be,” said Pharma, a bit coldly.
The medic had an authoritative way about him and was honestly a bit intimidating as evidenced by the way the owner seemed to straighten up at the other’s tone of voice alone. Damus couldn’t help but be a little enraptured by it.
The store owner snapped out of it and went to the window bringing the requested item to the counter.
“The original casing it was stored in will be extra, but you can always purchase the gramophone without it,” said the store owner, pulling out the case and placing it onto the counter for the two to inspect next to the gramophone.
“Just the gramophone is fine-,” started Damus, having already seen the case previously and written it off as way too expensive.
“We’ll take the case,” stated Pharma, cutting off Damus.
It was a very nice case. It had a soft fabric mesh lining cushioning to protect the music player on the inside. The metal case on the outside was engraved with intricate curves and lines in elegant patterns with stylized music notes gracing the front. It even had a compartment to store records.
It also doubled the price of the purchase.
“You don’t have to. The gramophone is more than enough,” protested Damus.
In fact, he’d at first only thought to ask for enough money to reach his expected goal, but when the other had offered to buy the entire thing Damus wisely accepted the stroke of good fortune and planned to take full advantage of the deal.
“Nonsense. It will be more trouble than it’s worth if it breaks on the way to the hotel without a proper case to store it. Besides, it seems a shame to separate the set. It's quite beautiful,” said Pharma, running his fingers across the case’s metal grooves.
“Will you also be purchasing the record of the Empyrean Suite you have on hold?” asked the store owner to Damus.
“Just throw everything together. We’ll take it all,” said Pharma before Damus could even get a word in.
Pharma quickly had everything charged to his account and soon they were exiting the store in a rush.
Before he knew it, Damus was clutching his prize carefully to his chest as they made their way to the end of the street.
“Thank you,” said Damus with genuine gratitude.
The other did not have to purchase the other items in addition to the gramophone. It was the kindest thing anyone had done for him in a long time.
What started off as a terrible day was turning out better than he could have imagined even if it had taken a strange turn. It still sucked that he had lost another job, but there was at least a small bright spot to it.
“Don’t thank me yet. We still have to get through tonight. Consider it a gesture of good will that I have no ill intentions toward you. I know this is very unorthodox,” said Pharma with a wince.
“Still I really appreciate it and I’ll do my best to be a good fake partner to you,” promised Damus.
“Thank you. Do you have the directions?” asked Pharma, a bit touched by the earnestness in the other’s tone.
Damus nodded in confirmation.
“Alright then let’s go. If you get lost just look up and follow me,” stated Pharma as he changed into his alt-mode.
Damus watched as the other transformed. It was quite beautiful, the shifting colors and panels reshaping themselves before the jet smoothly shot into the air.
Damus carefully stored the case inside himself as he also transformed driving toward their destination following close behind the other from the ground.