So the bunnies decided to join together and create SUPER BUNNY
Title: Pleasure Caste: Just As I Thought It Was Going Alright (02/??)
Verse: WFC AU
Rating: PG
Characters: Jazz, Prowl, Trailbreaker, Streetstar.
Warnings: Talk of vague future!plot, enforcers not really doing their job.
Summary: When Jazz was being picked up from the station, he was not expecting to find out that some of the enforcer caste was corrupt.
Notes: The bunnies have ruled that there will be Important Plot underscoring Jazz's trainwreck wooing of Prowl. I blame Netflix for having practically every season of Law & Order SVU and CI at my fingertips.
Also, that Streetstar guy up there? An actually canon TF. True, he only has, like, one line of text to him, but still. I'm only going to be using OCs if I absolutely cannot find a canon TF to fill in for the role. :)
Jazz onlined his optics and soon wish he hadn’t. Anything that gave off light burrowed into his helm, assaulting his processor with errors that weren’t really there and it made him hope that whatever had happened last night, it was worth the CPU-numbing ache now. The Alpha groaned aloud, rolling over in an attempt to escape the blasted light - only to roll off the edge of the berth and land face first on the unyielding ground with a clang.
He distinctly remembered his berth being larger than that. So where exactly --?
“Alpha Maestro. I’m glad to see that you’re finally…up.”
Oh yeah. He had been pulled over while driving back to his flat. That explained the cramped berth, at least, and why the floor was just plain metal sheeting. Jazz lifted himself on shaky arms and peered up at the enforcer standing over him on the other side of the bars.
Staticy memory files informed Jazz that it was the same enforcer as last night. They also informed him that the reason he was actually behind bars instead of splayed out on the floor in a private overcharge tank was because he had ignored the enforcer’s first stated warning and made another pass at him. In his defense, the bus had been taking forever and a bored, overcharged Jazz tended to jitter and talk a lot. Another pass for a quickie had been inevitable.
Still, the stasis cuffs had been unnecessary. But Jazz suppose he could overlook that in light of the fact that the enforcer had warned him and was just doing his caste job. It didn’t hurt that he was easy on the optics.
“Mornin’ ta you to, officer,” Jazz said as he ended last night’s memory files and wobbled upright by using the berth as a makeshift crutch.
“One of your Deltas is here to escort you back to your flat,” the enforcer continued as if Jazz hadn‘t said anything, inputting a code that unlocked the cell’s door with a harsh beep. “You have a few forms to fill out before you leave but they shouldn’t take long.”
Jazz nodded and took a slow step towards the open cell door. When his face didn’t reacquaint itself with the floor, the Alpha waltzed out of the cell as if he was leaving the exclusive Centurion dance club LiveWires, never mind the fact that his processor felt like it was imploding.
The enforcer, if he was impressed or displeased or even humored at the display, didn’t show it. His face remained a neutral mask as he motioned the Alpha over to the front of the station. Jazz resisted the urge to pout.
The large black form of Trailbreaker greeted them with a polite nod as they neared the front. It was a pleasant surprise from what Jazz’s imagination had been cooking up if it had been Hound standing in Trailbreaker’s place, but going by the Delta‘s stiff body language, he wasn’t completely out of the slag heap yet. Trailbreaker would wait until they were back at the flat before ganging up with Hound to do some serious shame-on-you finger wagging in private. Jazz wouldn’t mind the lecture - he did kind of deserve it after all - as long as they provided a download patch for the aftereffects of last night’s overcharge beforehand.
“Please fill out these forms here.” The enforcer’s voice dragged Jazz back to the present and pointed him to the datafile awaiting completion. Jazz dutifully picked up the worn stylus to get it done and over with.
“Alpha Maestro!”
The trio turned to the source of the shocked voice. A tall mech, painted in enforcer’s red, white, and black and sporting Captain insignias, rushed over to the counter they were standing at with Jazz hunched over the forms.
“Alpha Maestro, sir, if I’m not being too forward, what on Cybertron are you doing here? Why are you filling out release forms? Surely you weren’t kept in the common tank overnight!” the mech said, optics roving over Jazz’s plating for anything amiss. He briefly raised up his hands, looking as if he was going to do a physical pat down to make sure that Jazz really was in one piece, before catching sight of Trailbreaker’s imposing form and thinking better of it. His hands awkwardly floated back down to rest at his sides.
Jazz put on his best polite smile, hiding his immediate distaste of the mech. He never liked it when fellow Cybertronians tripped all over themselves just because of his caste rank. An annoyance of being an exalted Alpha but a small price to pay for having all the perks that came with the rank.
“Just had a little too much fun last night, Captain. Don’t worry, Ah’ll be outta your way soon as Ah finish these up,” Jazz answered.
But the Captain wasn’t paying attention to Jazz anymore. His optics landed on the enforcer standing besides Jazz and the air of flustered awe surrounding him was replaced by an angry repugnance for the fellow black and white enforcer.
“Don’t tell me you were the one to arrest the Alpha,” the Captain hissed out. His hands clenched into fists and his blue optics brightened to near-white as anger coursed through his lines. “Have you learned nothing from your past actions? Continue to falsely accuse and arrest those of higher rank and you will be demoted and transferred again! Keep this up and you‘ll soon find yourself cast down to the mines!”
“Captain Streetstar, I believe that this conversation would be best had behind closed doors -- “
“No, this conversation has been done before and it’s now over. You’re on file duty for the remained of the orn. Now get out of my sight, Prowl. I don’t want to see your face until you finish filing all of the unit’s backlog.”
Jazz watched in disbelief as the enforcer merely nodded before heading off to the back rooms, doorwings held stiff behind him. The Captain, while being of a higher caste rank, had no right to talk to a lower rank like that just because he was doing his caste job correctly. It would be like punishing one of his Gammas for escorting a paying client to a party.
“I am so sorry for this, Alpha Maestro,” Captain Streetstar said as he turned to face him, leaning in to speak in hush tones. “Prowl’s a good enforcer but he gets a little…too enthusiastic when it comes to arrests. I promise you that there’ll be no record of last night so you don‘t have to worry about your image. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience he‘s caused you.”
Jazz brightened his smile by several notches, hiding his disgust of the Captain’s blatant disregard for the law. Even though Jazz was of a lower caste, his caste rank made him almost on par with the Nobles, technically making him outrank most of the enforcer caste. But that didn’t make him above the law. The enforcers possessed special privileges allowing them to arrest anyone of any caste of any rank if there was any evidence of a crime. No one, not even the Prime, should be able to get away with breaking the law.
But by the sounds of it, high caste members were getting away with ’small’ transgressions in the Albiacon area. Maybe even big ones. And apparently the enforcer that had arrested him had tried to bring in another high ranking without success and with serious repercussions. Something was going on and Jazz always did have a bad habit of poking around in other mech’s business. It was probably why he had made such a good cultural investigator back in the day.
“Course it’s not a inconvenience, Captain, but I have to thank you for gettin’ me out of doin’ all of this troublesome filework. If you’re ever in the Polyhex, come look up my flat,” Jazz purred back, playing along.
“It would be my pleasure! Please, let me escort you out --”
“No, no, that’s quite alright. I know the way out and I wouldn’t want ta keep you from your duties any longer. If you‘ll excuse me.” Jazz did not want to be in this mech‘s company longer than he had to be. With that parting line, he motioned to Trailbreaker to follow behind him and they exited the building without looking back. They transformed and headed towards the nearest freeway in the direction of their home.
“I hope you‘re not planning what I think you‘re planning,” Trailbreaker said over comms once there were well on their way back into Polyhex territory.
“What makes you think Ah’m plannin’ anything?” Jazz asked with wounded dignity, slowing down in fake shock.
“Because I’ve been one of your Deltas for far too long. You want to know what’s going on with that enforcer station and won’t rest peacefully until you hash out all of its secrets even though you should let internal affairs handle it.”
Jazz chuckled over the comm. line. “You do know me too well. That’s not all of it, though.”
“Oh? And what would that be?”
“Let a mech keep some secrets, ‘Breaker. Ah think you’ll find out soon enough.”
Jazz missed Trailbreaker’s answering comment as his thoughts turned inwards. Besides the weak evidence that part of the enforcer caste had been corrupted somewhere down the line, there was the question of who the enforcer - Prowl, was it? - had tried to arrest in the past. Someone in a higher caste ranking, most likely someone with a lot of influence too if they had something to do with Prowl’s demotion and transfer. Jazz wanted to know what had happened.
Besides, he liked this ‘Prowl.’ For one, he was interesting in that he had continued to do his caste job in accordance with the law even though he had been demoted once already for it. Another in that he had remained completely professional in light of Jazz’s advancements. Not many, low or high in caste or rank, would refuse a tumble with an Alpha no matter the circumstances. And three - he liked the name. Prowl. The name vibrated in one’s vocalizer and rolled off the glossa with a glide only found when rubbing together the most expensive of metal mesh cloth.
Jazz’s interest was piqued. And when that happened, well…
Prowl wouldn’t know what hit him.
Verse: WFC AU
Rating: PG
Characters: Jazz, Prowl, Trailbreaker, Streetstar.
Warnings: Talk of vague future!plot, enforcers not really doing their job.
Summary: When Jazz was being picked up from the station, he was not expecting to find out that some of the enforcer caste was corrupt.
Notes: The bunnies have ruled that there will be Important Plot underscoring Jazz's trainwreck wooing of Prowl. I blame Netflix for having practically every season of Law & Order SVU and CI at my fingertips.
Also, that Streetstar guy up there? An actually canon TF. True, he only has, like, one line of text to him, but still. I'm only going to be using OCs if I absolutely cannot find a canon TF to fill in for the role. :)
Jazz onlined his optics and soon wish he hadn’t. Anything that gave off light burrowed into his helm, assaulting his processor with errors that weren’t really there and it made him hope that whatever had happened last night, it was worth the CPU-numbing ache now. The Alpha groaned aloud, rolling over in an attempt to escape the blasted light - only to roll off the edge of the berth and land face first on the unyielding ground with a clang.
He distinctly remembered his berth being larger than that. So where exactly --?
“Alpha Maestro. I’m glad to see that you’re finally…up.”
Oh yeah. He had been pulled over while driving back to his flat. That explained the cramped berth, at least, and why the floor was just plain metal sheeting. Jazz lifted himself on shaky arms and peered up at the enforcer standing over him on the other side of the bars.
Staticy memory files informed Jazz that it was the same enforcer as last night. They also informed him that the reason he was actually behind bars instead of splayed out on the floor in a private overcharge tank was because he had ignored the enforcer’s first stated warning and made another pass at him. In his defense, the bus had been taking forever and a bored, overcharged Jazz tended to jitter and talk a lot. Another pass for a quickie had been inevitable.
Still, the stasis cuffs had been unnecessary. But Jazz suppose he could overlook that in light of the fact that the enforcer had warned him and was just doing his caste job. It didn’t hurt that he was easy on the optics.
“Mornin’ ta you to, officer,” Jazz said as he ended last night’s memory files and wobbled upright by using the berth as a makeshift crutch.
“One of your Deltas is here to escort you back to your flat,” the enforcer continued as if Jazz hadn‘t said anything, inputting a code that unlocked the cell’s door with a harsh beep. “You have a few forms to fill out before you leave but they shouldn’t take long.”
Jazz nodded and took a slow step towards the open cell door. When his face didn’t reacquaint itself with the floor, the Alpha waltzed out of the cell as if he was leaving the exclusive Centurion dance club LiveWires, never mind the fact that his processor felt like it was imploding.
The enforcer, if he was impressed or displeased or even humored at the display, didn’t show it. His face remained a neutral mask as he motioned the Alpha over to the front of the station. Jazz resisted the urge to pout.
The large black form of Trailbreaker greeted them with a polite nod as they neared the front. It was a pleasant surprise from what Jazz’s imagination had been cooking up if it had been Hound standing in Trailbreaker’s place, but going by the Delta‘s stiff body language, he wasn’t completely out of the slag heap yet. Trailbreaker would wait until they were back at the flat before ganging up with Hound to do some serious shame-on-you finger wagging in private. Jazz wouldn’t mind the lecture - he did kind of deserve it after all - as long as they provided a download patch for the aftereffects of last night’s overcharge beforehand.
“Please fill out these forms here.” The enforcer’s voice dragged Jazz back to the present and pointed him to the datafile awaiting completion. Jazz dutifully picked up the worn stylus to get it done and over with.
“Alpha Maestro!”
The trio turned to the source of the shocked voice. A tall mech, painted in enforcer’s red, white, and black and sporting Captain insignias, rushed over to the counter they were standing at with Jazz hunched over the forms.
“Alpha Maestro, sir, if I’m not being too forward, what on Cybertron are you doing here? Why are you filling out release forms? Surely you weren’t kept in the common tank overnight!” the mech said, optics roving over Jazz’s plating for anything amiss. He briefly raised up his hands, looking as if he was going to do a physical pat down to make sure that Jazz really was in one piece, before catching sight of Trailbreaker’s imposing form and thinking better of it. His hands awkwardly floated back down to rest at his sides.
Jazz put on his best polite smile, hiding his immediate distaste of the mech. He never liked it when fellow Cybertronians tripped all over themselves just because of his caste rank. An annoyance of being an exalted Alpha but a small price to pay for having all the perks that came with the rank.
“Just had a little too much fun last night, Captain. Don’t worry, Ah’ll be outta your way soon as Ah finish these up,” Jazz answered.
But the Captain wasn’t paying attention to Jazz anymore. His optics landed on the enforcer standing besides Jazz and the air of flustered awe surrounding him was replaced by an angry repugnance for the fellow black and white enforcer.
“Don’t tell me you were the one to arrest the Alpha,” the Captain hissed out. His hands clenched into fists and his blue optics brightened to near-white as anger coursed through his lines. “Have you learned nothing from your past actions? Continue to falsely accuse and arrest those of higher rank and you will be demoted and transferred again! Keep this up and you‘ll soon find yourself cast down to the mines!”
“Captain Streetstar, I believe that this conversation would be best had behind closed doors -- “
“No, this conversation has been done before and it’s now over. You’re on file duty for the remained of the orn. Now get out of my sight, Prowl. I don’t want to see your face until you finish filing all of the unit’s backlog.”
Jazz watched in disbelief as the enforcer merely nodded before heading off to the back rooms, doorwings held stiff behind him. The Captain, while being of a higher caste rank, had no right to talk to a lower rank like that just because he was doing his caste job correctly. It would be like punishing one of his Gammas for escorting a paying client to a party.
“I am so sorry for this, Alpha Maestro,” Captain Streetstar said as he turned to face him, leaning in to speak in hush tones. “Prowl’s a good enforcer but he gets a little…too enthusiastic when it comes to arrests. I promise you that there’ll be no record of last night so you don‘t have to worry about your image. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience he‘s caused you.”
Jazz brightened his smile by several notches, hiding his disgust of the Captain’s blatant disregard for the law. Even though Jazz was of a lower caste, his caste rank made him almost on par with the Nobles, technically making him outrank most of the enforcer caste. But that didn’t make him above the law. The enforcers possessed special privileges allowing them to arrest anyone of any caste of any rank if there was any evidence of a crime. No one, not even the Prime, should be able to get away with breaking the law.
But by the sounds of it, high caste members were getting away with ’small’ transgressions in the Albiacon area. Maybe even big ones. And apparently the enforcer that had arrested him had tried to bring in another high ranking without success and with serious repercussions. Something was going on and Jazz always did have a bad habit of poking around in other mech’s business. It was probably why he had made such a good cultural investigator back in the day.
“Course it’s not a inconvenience, Captain, but I have to thank you for gettin’ me out of doin’ all of this troublesome filework. If you’re ever in the Polyhex, come look up my flat,” Jazz purred back, playing along.
“It would be my pleasure! Please, let me escort you out --”
“No, no, that’s quite alright. I know the way out and I wouldn’t want ta keep you from your duties any longer. If you‘ll excuse me.” Jazz did not want to be in this mech‘s company longer than he had to be. With that parting line, he motioned to Trailbreaker to follow behind him and they exited the building without looking back. They transformed and headed towards the nearest freeway in the direction of their home.
“I hope you‘re not planning what I think you‘re planning,” Trailbreaker said over comms once there were well on their way back into Polyhex territory.
“What makes you think Ah’m plannin’ anything?” Jazz asked with wounded dignity, slowing down in fake shock.
“Because I’ve been one of your Deltas for far too long. You want to know what’s going on with that enforcer station and won’t rest peacefully until you hash out all of its secrets even though you should let internal affairs handle it.”
Jazz chuckled over the comm. line. “You do know me too well. That’s not all of it, though.”
“Oh? And what would that be?”
“Let a mech keep some secrets, ‘Breaker. Ah think you’ll find out soon enough.”
Jazz missed Trailbreaker’s answering comment as his thoughts turned inwards. Besides the weak evidence that part of the enforcer caste had been corrupted somewhere down the line, there was the question of who the enforcer - Prowl, was it? - had tried to arrest in the past. Someone in a higher caste ranking, most likely someone with a lot of influence too if they had something to do with Prowl’s demotion and transfer. Jazz wanted to know what had happened.
Besides, he liked this ‘Prowl.’ For one, he was interesting in that he had continued to do his caste job in accordance with the law even though he had been demoted once already for it. Another in that he had remained completely professional in light of Jazz’s advancements. Not many, low or high in caste or rank, would refuse a tumble with an Alpha no matter the circumstances. And three - he liked the name. Prowl. The name vibrated in one’s vocalizer and rolled off the glossa with a glide only found when rubbing together the most expensive of metal mesh cloth.
Jazz’s interest was piqued. And when that happened, well…
Prowl wouldn’t know what hit him.