ProwlxJazz December 2010 Challenge Fic
Title: Beethoven’s Last Night
Day: 12
Prompt: Trans-Siberian Orchestra (going to or listening to)
Rating: G
*Words: (for fic) 844
Other Characters: N/A
Warnings: N/A
Summary/Notes: Jazz could really get into this ‘Holiday Season’ thing if it means doing things like this for Prowl every year.
Prowl rolled after Jazz, confused as to his partner’s intent. Snow drifted past the beams of their headlights, slicking the pavement under their tires and forcing Prowl to focus on his driving and not on deciphering Jazz’s latest plot. Jazz had gone so far as to gain Optimus Prime’s assistance in prying Prowl out of his office with threats of enforced vacation time locked out of his office if the tactician didn’t go quietly. Prowl had given in with that threate; he valued his ability to keep the army running smoothly, and being out of his office for more than a few hours wreaked havoc on that ability.
At least the ‘Cons had been blessedly silent, lately; no doubt due to the unusually cold weather.
And with that threat of enforced down time hanging over his helm, Prowl trailed Jazz along icy winter streets. Eventually, they rolled past a city limit sign for Las Vegas. As the traffic increased Prowl had to turn even more of his attention to monitoring other drivers, giving up - for the time being - on figuring out the plan ahead of time. For all that they were in Las Vegas, it was still something of a surprise when they rolled to a stop at the loading dock of a casino. He had no idea why they were here - certainly Jazz knew that Smokescreen was the gambler, not Prowl. A pair of semi-trucks were parked along the side of the loading area, but they were unmarked and no help to the tactician. While he waited, engine running to keep away the chill, a man in the casino’s uniform leaned into Jazz’s lowered window, conferred with him for a moment, and then backed away to say something into a small microphone clipped to his lapel. One of the ground-level bay doors opened and Prowl followed Jazz inside.
To Prowl’s even greater surprise, Jazz transformed and settled on his aft in a roped-off area less than 100 feet from a dark stage. After a moment Prowl carefully unfolded into his root mode to settle on his own aft beside Jazz, surveying the auditorium as he tried to get comfortable having his legs stretched out in front of him.
"Jazz... what did you do?" He asked the white racer out loud quietly when a ping over their comms got no response.
"Shh..." Jazz held his fingers up to his face plates in the human quiet motion. "Yah’ll see."
Resigned - and keeping a cautious optic on the crowd around them - Prowl settled down. A hush fell over the auditorium as a single piano note was struck. Quickly that single note grew to become the strains of one of Prowl’s favorite pieces of Earth music. As the first high point of the Fifth was reached, though, Prowl was caught completely off guard by the explosion of phosphorous pyrotechnics from three points that illuminated the stage. As the piano was joined by an electric guitar, a dazzling display of green and red laser lights danced across the stage and out over the crowd. More instruments joined in as a small orchestra was revealed, every human musician playing in perfect sync with his or her fellows.
Prowl leaned forward as a single figure stepped out of the shadows created by the laser lights flickering in another direction. The man’s voice was deep and vibrant, and even in song he had a tone of veiled menace - very much the evil character, according to traditional human character acting. No doubt noticing that Prowl was ‘thinking too hard,’ Jazz elbowed him in the side with a quiet clank as the singer gestured at the crowd and the music took on a significantly less cheerful note. Prowl glanced at his partner for a moment with a scowl, but gave up his analyzing (just for a while!) to listen. Other singers joined the stage to sing their parts, weaving a story in music and words, and for once Prowl really understood Jazz’s addiction.
The end came too soon, and for a while Prowl just sat there. A portion of his processor pointed out that logically it was wiser to wait until traffic thinned out before they headed back. A greater portion was still wrapped up in the music; the combination of modern instruments and those the music was originally written for, the creation of a story of a man’s life that was felt and heard as much as told. Music on Cybertron had never been quite like this...
Jazz’s soft "Prowler...?" broke his quiet contemplation, and for once Prowl allowed himself to say the first thing that crossed his processor.
"Somehow I very strongly doubt that Beethoven’s life was dictated by a bargain for his soul. While the man may have been insane by the time he died, there is no-"
Jazz winced and cut Prowl off. “Stop, stop! Prowl, yah’re missin’ the point! Ah didn’ bring ya out here to analyze- oomph!.”
Prowl stopped Jazz with a touch to the Porche’s cheek.
"Thank you, Jazz."
Day: 12
Prompt: Trans-Siberian Orchestra (going to or listening to)
Rating: G
*Words: (for fic) 844
Other Characters: N/A
Warnings: N/A
Summary/Notes: Jazz could really get into this ‘Holiday Season’ thing if it means doing things like this for Prowl every year.
Prowl rolled after Jazz, confused as to his partner’s intent. Snow drifted past the beams of their headlights, slicking the pavement under their tires and forcing Prowl to focus on his driving and not on deciphering Jazz’s latest plot. Jazz had gone so far as to gain Optimus Prime’s assistance in prying Prowl out of his office with threats of enforced vacation time locked out of his office if the tactician didn’t go quietly. Prowl had given in with that threate; he valued his ability to keep the army running smoothly, and being out of his office for more than a few hours wreaked havoc on that ability.
At least the ‘Cons had been blessedly silent, lately; no doubt due to the unusually cold weather.
And with that threat of enforced down time hanging over his helm, Prowl trailed Jazz along icy winter streets. Eventually, they rolled past a city limit sign for Las Vegas. As the traffic increased Prowl had to turn even more of his attention to monitoring other drivers, giving up - for the time being - on figuring out the plan ahead of time. For all that they were in Las Vegas, it was still something of a surprise when they rolled to a stop at the loading dock of a casino. He had no idea why they were here - certainly Jazz knew that Smokescreen was the gambler, not Prowl. A pair of semi-trucks were parked along the side of the loading area, but they were unmarked and no help to the tactician. While he waited, engine running to keep away the chill, a man in the casino’s uniform leaned into Jazz’s lowered window, conferred with him for a moment, and then backed away to say something into a small microphone clipped to his lapel. One of the ground-level bay doors opened and Prowl followed Jazz inside.
To Prowl’s even greater surprise, Jazz transformed and settled on his aft in a roped-off area less than 100 feet from a dark stage. After a moment Prowl carefully unfolded into his root mode to settle on his own aft beside Jazz, surveying the auditorium as he tried to get comfortable having his legs stretched out in front of him.
"Jazz... what did you do?" He asked the white racer out loud quietly when a ping over their comms got no response.
"Shh..." Jazz held his fingers up to his face plates in the human quiet motion. "Yah’ll see."
Resigned - and keeping a cautious optic on the crowd around them - Prowl settled down. A hush fell over the auditorium as a single piano note was struck. Quickly that single note grew to become the strains of one of Prowl’s favorite pieces of Earth music. As the first high point of the Fifth was reached, though, Prowl was caught completely off guard by the explosion of phosphorous pyrotechnics from three points that illuminated the stage. As the piano was joined by an electric guitar, a dazzling display of green and red laser lights danced across the stage and out over the crowd. More instruments joined in as a small orchestra was revealed, every human musician playing in perfect sync with his or her fellows.
Prowl leaned forward as a single figure stepped out of the shadows created by the laser lights flickering in another direction. The man’s voice was deep and vibrant, and even in song he had a tone of veiled menace - very much the evil character, according to traditional human character acting. No doubt noticing that Prowl was ‘thinking too hard,’ Jazz elbowed him in the side with a quiet clank as the singer gestured at the crowd and the music took on a significantly less cheerful note. Prowl glanced at his partner for a moment with a scowl, but gave up his analyzing (just for a while!) to listen. Other singers joined the stage to sing their parts, weaving a story in music and words, and for once Prowl really understood Jazz’s addiction.
The end came too soon, and for a while Prowl just sat there. A portion of his processor pointed out that logically it was wiser to wait until traffic thinned out before they headed back. A greater portion was still wrapped up in the music; the combination of modern instruments and those the music was originally written for, the creation of a story of a man’s life that was felt and heard as much as told. Music on Cybertron had never been quite like this...
Jazz’s soft "Prowler...?" broke his quiet contemplation, and for once Prowl allowed himself to say the first thing that crossed his processor.
"Somehow I very strongly doubt that Beethoven’s life was dictated by a bargain for his soul. While the man may have been insane by the time he died, there is no-"
Jazz winced and cut Prowl off. “Stop, stop! Prowl, yah’re missin’ the point! Ah didn’ bring ya out here to analyze- oomph!.”
Prowl stopped Jazz with a touch to the Porche’s cheek.
"Thank you, Jazz."