TF Speedwriting Prompt Fills - 2
Another full set...
Title: Holes in the Sky
Rating: G
Continuity: Movieverse
Characters: Prowl, Optimus Prime, Will Lennox
Disclaimer: I wish.
Prompt: Prompt 1: Hole Punch or Fallstreak Clouds (info and great pics on the link)
“The humans are starting to notice our presence. Our cloaking shields protect us from sight. They do not make us intangible,” Prowl said as he walked up to the Prime, a datapad in hand. “They have been noticing the holes we create when we come through the atmosphere and break through cloud cover.”
Optimus took the datapad, glancing at the pictures. Pictures that showed the brilliant blue sky of Earth, and clouds with holes punched through them. “Is there any way to coordinate landings in areas where there is no cloud cover?”
Prowl frowned. “No. I have already looked into that. Unless we have everyone land in the desert or the ocean when there is no one around to see it, I can find no solutions. There is too much water in the atmosphere. There are clouds over all of the preferred landing sites almost constantly, and we cannot simply wait for breaks in them. We would have huge numbers of Cybertronians staying on the moon, and as possible that is, the number would continue to build up until the humans' scanners would no doubt pick something up.”
Lennox, standing on the catwalk against the wall, snorted. “Not to mention that we'd notice a ton of new cars around when there weren't any before.”
“That, too.”
“What do you propose, Prowl? I know you have a plan.”
The tactician gave a small smirk. “I do. We blame the holes on the human aircraft.”
“How? The airplanes do not move quickly enough, and do not have the correct shape to leave the holes.”
“We know that. The humans don't. I will simply post a few articles online and talk anonymously to a few specialists. It is easy enough to plant ideas. It will protect us for some time, at least until the majority of Cybertron's remaining population arrives and the humans are ready to learn of us.”
The Prime nodded, handing the datapad back. “Very well. Do what you must.”
Lennox simply shook his head and smiled.
Title: Infiltration
Rating: PG
Continuity: G1
Characters: Jazz, Starscream
Disclaimer: I seriously do wish.
Prompt: Prompt 2 and 3: Betrayal; Setting: An abandoned public place.
(Am I allowed to do two at one time?)
They met, as always, somewhere discreet. This time, it was a small human park, abandoned for the night. They were discreet, as was needed.
The Autobot arrived first, drifting to a stop on silent tires. He idled in the parking lot, knowing the Decepticon he was waiting for would be there soon.
A breem later, jet engines could be heard overhead. The Decepticon transformed and landed on his thrusters, crouched before the Autobot.
“Jazz,” he rasped.
“Starscream,” the Autobot Head of Special Operations replied as he transformed and stood up. “Ya said ya have information for me?”
“I do.” The Seeker pulled a datapad out of his subspace and handed it over. “The designs for Megatron's latest weapon of doom, and his mission plan.”
“Thanks, Screamer.”
Starscream frowned, but said nothing against the hated nickname.”Jazz, when are you going to pull us out? Megatron is getting more and more unstable, and I fear for the safety of my trinemates.”
“An' yerself. Ya can say it, y'know. We know what the slag-head does t' ya.”
“And myself,” Starscream murmured, frowning.
Jazz smiled softly at the infiltrator. “Soon. Ah can promise ya that. Prowl's already workin' on an extraction plan. We're thinkin' durin' some battle, we can get th' Twins t' take you out - with instructions t' keep ya in good health, if possible - pretendin' t' take ya captive, 'n lettin' everyone not in th' know that ya've been on our side th' whole time.”
Starscream nodded. “Very well. I must get back to my patrol route.”
“An' Ah've gotta report back t' base. See ya later, Screamer.”
“It's Starscream, Jazz,” the Seeker said. “And... thank you,” he murmured as he ignited his thrusters and blasted into the sky.
“Ya're welc'me,” Jazz said as he smiled fondly, then frowned at the scorch marks left behind. “Wonder what the humans'll make o' that,” he muttered to himself as he transformed and drove away.
Title: Why Do Rats Abandon Ship?
Rating: PG
Continuity: G1-ish?
Characters: Wheeljack, Ratchet, Prowl, two unfortunate unnamed 'Cons
Disclaimer: I really, really do wish...
Prompt: Prompt 4: June 18: Rats leaving a sinking ship. (Also inspired by a conversation with silberstreif)
“Hey, Ratchet, have you seen my ship?”
“What? Wheeljack, you don't have a ship.”
“Yes, I do. That experimental one I was working on last orn. You know, the thing you called an 'explosive heap of wasted metal'?”
Ratchet snorted as he pulled two tangled wires apart. “'Jack, that's what I call all of your 'experiments'. You'll have to specify a bit more.”
Wheeljack vented and rolled his optics. “The big one in the shuttle hangar?”
“Oh. That one. What would I do with that? And why do you always assume it's me who takes your stuff?”
Wheeljack glared at his bondmate. “You're the only one who dares. And anyways, who else would want an experimental shuttle?”
“RED ALERT! RED ALERT! DECEPTICON SPARK SIGNATURES DETECTED EXITING THE SHUTTLE BAY!” Red Alert screamed over the intercom.
Wheeljack's optics faded to an almost-white color in terror, and his audial indicators were dark and silent for a moment. “Except them,” he practically whispered.
“Hm? What's... Wheeljack?” Ratchet called as he turned away from the pile of spare parts he had been sorting to the now empty door frame. He strode to the door of his small Med Bay and stuck his head out. “Wheeljack! Get your aft back here and explain yourself!”
“No time!” the inventor called over his shoulder as he practically sprinted down the hallway. “That thing isn't tested! I haven't even run the specs through computerized simulations yet! And the Cons were just in the shuttle bay!”
Ratchet simply stared for a moment. Then it clicked, and he started running after his bondmate. A klik after he started moving, he opened a comm. ::Prowl! Those Cons! They stole 'Jack's experimental shuttle! We need a base-wide evacuation NOW!”
::How-?::
::'Jack's running for the shuttle bays. Said it wasn't tested. Think he has some theories.::
::Understood.:: The comm linen closed, but a moment later, Prowl's voice crackled over the intercom. “ATTENTION! WE HAVE A CODE 115-94! ALL PERSONEL, EVACUATE! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! GET TO YOUR DESIGNATED SHUTTLES AND GET AS FAR OUT OF THE SOLAR SYSTEM AS YOU CAN! I REPEAT! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!”
The Autobots, as a whole, ran for the shuttles and followed Wheeljack out of the solar system as fast as their thrusters could carry them.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
“Lookit that! They's runnin' scared! We steal this wicked ship an' they run!” the purple Decepticon crowed, staring gleefully at the fleeing ships, now just sparkling dots against the blackness of space. His companion, a slim, pale blue mech, was not so enthusiastic.
“I dunno. I mean... my sire was a seaman. Ran ships across the Great Rust Sea. Had a saying; why do turbo-rats abandon a ship?”
His purple companion glanced at him sideways, a knowing smirk on his face. “Since yer already gonna do it, just tell me; why do they abandon a ship?”
“When they know something you don't.”
“Huh?”
The blue mech sighed. “The idiots I work with,” he mumbled, then spoke loud enough for the purple mech to hear. “It means they know something bad's ab-”
The rest of his words were lost in fiery oblivion.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
The Autobots watched as the explosion grew, enveloping planets, moons, and finally blotting out the sun they orbited. They hovered barely outside the blast radius, and though the sight of the brilliant supernova of fire stunned them all, they heard nothing, as sound waves don't travel through vacuums.
When the fire had faded, and empty space was all that remained of the solar system, everyone in the cockpit of the command shuttle turned to stare at the inventor, who was trying (and failing) to cower behind Prowl.
“Heh...” he chuckled weakly. “It... was a nice boom...? And,” he hurredly added when he saw Ratchet heading in his direction, “nobody got hurt!”
“Are you sure about that?” Ratchet hissed as he stalked forward, wrench settled easily in his hand. Everyone flinched as the heavy metal met the reinforced helm of Wheeljack.
The inventor gazed pitifully up at the raging medic from where he was sprawled across the floor of the shuttle.
“See?” Ratchet growled. “One Autobot injured. And I’ll bet good high-grade that the report will describe more than just a bump on the helm!”
“Ratchet!” the inventor yelped. “It wasn't actually my fault this time!”
“He does have a point,” Prowl murmured, then flinched and lowered his doorwings as the medic turned his icy glare on the tactician.
Wheeljack just let his helm thunk back onto the floor. “You do have to admit... It was a big boom...” he muttered with a smirk, though thankfully, no one could see it through his mask.
“I'll show you a big boom,” Ratchet rumbled as he raised his wrench once again.
Title: Unrequited
Rating: PG
Continuity: G1
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Anonymous
Disclaimer: *sighs* Does anyone have a genie in a bottle I can borrow?
Prompt: Prompt 5: Scenario: One character has a deep crazy burning crush on another. The other doesn't have a clue.
I always loved him, even if I never said. Always harbored those burning feelings in my spark.
I never spoke. Never said a word of my affections. Always stood by when he found a new fling, but was always there when he was left, or did the leaving, and hurt. I offered myself to ease his pain, but he never saw me as any more than a friend.
When we joined the Autobots, I thought it might be different. I thought that we might finally have something. A new environment, strange mechs, strange lifestyle.
But he didn't. We didn't. Instead, he found someone else. Prowl. Everyone else saw him as simply a tight-aft, walking rule book. But Jazz saw something else, just like he did with everyone. He always saw straight into a mech's spark.
It made me wonder why he never saw through me. Maybe because we had always been friends, back since our sparkling orns. Maybe because I never presented myself as anything other than a friend? He had often complimented my acting skills.
I watched from afar as the two black and whites grew closer. As they started spending more time together, and Jazz started spending less time with me.
I was still his friend - that, I highly doubted, would ever change - but something had shifted. I was no longer in the center ring of his universe. That center ring belonged only to Prowl.
How I hated that name. Prowl. The mech who stole my beloved, my unrequited love. I still respected him. He was a good mech, a smart mech, and he did his best to keep us all alive. But that didn't change the fact that he took what was mine.
Or perhaps it wasn't mine? These humans were full of sayings. That one I heard a few local solar cycles ago... “If you truly love something, let it go, and if it never comes back, then you will know that it was never yours. But if it does come back, you know it's yours forever.”
Or something like that. And I never made a move on Jazz, never held on enough that I'd have to let go. I had spent too long waiting in the shadows, and had never presented myself as an option. Jazz had never known, and I had never bolstered up the courage to tell him.
I sank lower in my chair as I watched the two talk over their energon, a cube of high-grade in my hand. They were both smiling, and the expression looked strange on Prowl. They were happy.
I vented. Jazz wasn't mine. As much as I may have wished it, he had made his choice, and it wasn't me.
I downed the cube in one gulp, shuddering slightly as the energy hit my systems. Another flash of rage twisted my circuits as I watched as the two linked hands on the table.
Perhaps Jazz wasn't mine, but I sure as pit didn't like that he was Prowl's.
Then my spark filled with gleeful hope. Jazz's flings never lasted long. He would abandon Prowl, or Prowl would abandon him soon enough, and this time, this time I would tell him. This time I would sweep him off his pedes and declare my love.
I smirked in my dark corner as I unsubspaced another cube of high-grade and knocked back a drink. Jazz would be mine soon enough.
Title: Sensitive
Rating: PG
Continuity: Movieverse
Characters: Jazz, Sam Witwicky, Ratchet
Disclaimer: Seriously. I want that genie.
Prompt: Prompt 6: Virus
There were many things about the Cybertronians that surprised the humans. Or simply made them stop and think. This was one of them.
When Sam had heard that Jazz had gotten a virus, he had gotten rather panicked - he knew what viruses did to his computer. He didn't want to wish that on any Cybertronian.
So when he walked into the Med Bay, fully expecting to see Jazz prone on a berth, perhaps twitching, or perhaps simply “shut down,” he was surprised to see Jazz sitting up, grinning, and kicking his pedes.
“Uh... Hi, Jazz,” he said, striding quickly over to the stairs installed against the wall at the head of every berth.
“Hiya, Sam!”
“I heard you had a virus,” the boy said as he reached the top of the stairs and walked onto the berth.
“I do.” Jazz smirked and nodded. “Though it ain't much like anythin' you humans get.”
“Yeah, I figured... What do viruses do to you guys?”
“Oh, all kinds o' things. Ah remember one time, Prowler got a virus that made him speak in rhymes. 'T was funny. Ah! Watch... y' don' wanna touch me.”
Sam gave him an odd look. “Why? I can't catch it.”
Jazz grimaced. “Ah know. But this virus's messin' with mah energy regulation. Ah'm... Ah guess y'd call it super sensitive. 'N y' know how we've all got energy runnin' though out frames 'n armor? Well, with this virus, Ah can't c'ntrol it.”
Sam nodded in understanding, and kept a healthy distance, not wanting to get shocked. “How'd you pick it up?”
Jazz chuckled nervously. “'S... 's actually a virus Ah made mahself. Makes th' energy hard t' control, but also makes meh much more sensitive. Ah was jus' on a mission... Ah use it 'lot t' keep 'ware o' mah surroundin's.”
“He does this far too often,” Ratchet rumbled as he strode out of his office, a datachip in hand. “Enough that I’ve learned to keep the antivirus ready when he comes back.”
Sam frowned. “Wait. Didn't you say you made the virus yourself? Why does Ratchet have the antivirus and not you?”
Jazz chuckled and ran his hand over the back of his helm, a nervous gesture many of them had picked up from the humans. “Well... sometimes... it kinda... mutates. That's what virus's do, y'know. Ah picked up another little virus from th' Con's computer. Jus' a little thing, s'posed t' disable motor functions. Ah've had the antivirus fer that one fer a long time, but it kinda messed a bit with mah virus a'fore Ah could stop 't. Ratch' keeps a basic antivirus fer mine, and his medical codin' 'llows him t' modify it much quicker 'n Ah could.”
Ratchet sighed as he handed the chip over. “Jazz is right. I just wish he wouldn't use that fragging virus as much as he does. It gets corrupted far to easily.”
“Hey, Ah'm jus' givin' ya practice, Ratch'!”
“I already have enough of that without you. How is it?”
“Done 'n done. Thanks, Ratchet.”
“No problem Jazz. I don't expect to see you for at least a month.”
“Yup! Wanna lift, Sam?”
Sam eyed the offered hand for a moment. “I suppose. As long as you're sure that the virus is gone.”
“Cross mah spark 'n hope 't die. Ow! Ratchet! It's jus' a sayin'!” Jazz yelped as he clutched his helm.
Ratchet scowled playfully. “Even so. I spend enough time keeping you from death without you joking about it, much less in my presence. Now get out.”
“With pleasure!”
Jazz hurried from the Med Bay, human in his hand and virus free.
Title: Holes in the Sky
Rating: G
Continuity: Movieverse
Characters: Prowl, Optimus Prime, Will Lennox
Disclaimer: I wish.
Prompt: Prompt 1: Hole Punch or Fallstreak Clouds (info and great pics on the link)
“The humans are starting to notice our presence. Our cloaking shields protect us from sight. They do not make us intangible,” Prowl said as he walked up to the Prime, a datapad in hand. “They have been noticing the holes we create when we come through the atmosphere and break through cloud cover.”
Optimus took the datapad, glancing at the pictures. Pictures that showed the brilliant blue sky of Earth, and clouds with holes punched through them. “Is there any way to coordinate landings in areas where there is no cloud cover?”
Prowl frowned. “No. I have already looked into that. Unless we have everyone land in the desert or the ocean when there is no one around to see it, I can find no solutions. There is too much water in the atmosphere. There are clouds over all of the preferred landing sites almost constantly, and we cannot simply wait for breaks in them. We would have huge numbers of Cybertronians staying on the moon, and as possible that is, the number would continue to build up until the humans' scanners would no doubt pick something up.”
Lennox, standing on the catwalk against the wall, snorted. “Not to mention that we'd notice a ton of new cars around when there weren't any before.”
“That, too.”
“What do you propose, Prowl? I know you have a plan.”
The tactician gave a small smirk. “I do. We blame the holes on the human aircraft.”
“How? The airplanes do not move quickly enough, and do not have the correct shape to leave the holes.”
“We know that. The humans don't. I will simply post a few articles online and talk anonymously to a few specialists. It is easy enough to plant ideas. It will protect us for some time, at least until the majority of Cybertron's remaining population arrives and the humans are ready to learn of us.”
The Prime nodded, handing the datapad back. “Very well. Do what you must.”
Lennox simply shook his head and smiled.
Title: Infiltration
Rating: PG
Continuity: G1
Characters: Jazz, Starscream
Disclaimer: I seriously do wish.
Prompt: Prompt 2 and 3: Betrayal; Setting: An abandoned public place.
(Am I allowed to do two at one time?)
They met, as always, somewhere discreet. This time, it was a small human park, abandoned for the night. They were discreet, as was needed.
The Autobot arrived first, drifting to a stop on silent tires. He idled in the parking lot, knowing the Decepticon he was waiting for would be there soon.
A breem later, jet engines could be heard overhead. The Decepticon transformed and landed on his thrusters, crouched before the Autobot.
“Jazz,” he rasped.
“Starscream,” the Autobot Head of Special Operations replied as he transformed and stood up. “Ya said ya have information for me?”
“I do.” The Seeker pulled a datapad out of his subspace and handed it over. “The designs for Megatron's latest weapon of doom, and his mission plan.”
“Thanks, Screamer.”
Starscream frowned, but said nothing against the hated nickname.”Jazz, when are you going to pull us out? Megatron is getting more and more unstable, and I fear for the safety of my trinemates.”
“An' yerself. Ya can say it, y'know. We know what the slag-head does t' ya.”
“And myself,” Starscream murmured, frowning.
Jazz smiled softly at the infiltrator. “Soon. Ah can promise ya that. Prowl's already workin' on an extraction plan. We're thinkin' durin' some battle, we can get th' Twins t' take you out - with instructions t' keep ya in good health, if possible - pretendin' t' take ya captive, 'n lettin' everyone not in th' know that ya've been on our side th' whole time.”
Starscream nodded. “Very well. I must get back to my patrol route.”
“An' Ah've gotta report back t' base. See ya later, Screamer.”
“It's Starscream, Jazz,” the Seeker said. “And... thank you,” he murmured as he ignited his thrusters and blasted into the sky.
“Ya're welc'me,” Jazz said as he smiled fondly, then frowned at the scorch marks left behind. “Wonder what the humans'll make o' that,” he muttered to himself as he transformed and drove away.
Title: Why Do Rats Abandon Ship?
Rating: PG
Continuity: G1-ish?
Characters: Wheeljack, Ratchet, Prowl, two unfortunate unnamed 'Cons
Disclaimer: I really, really do wish...
Prompt: Prompt 4: June 18: Rats leaving a sinking ship. (Also inspired by a conversation with silberstreif)
“Hey, Ratchet, have you seen my ship?”
“What? Wheeljack, you don't have a ship.”
“Yes, I do. That experimental one I was working on last orn. You know, the thing you called an 'explosive heap of wasted metal'?”
Ratchet snorted as he pulled two tangled wires apart. “'Jack, that's what I call all of your 'experiments'. You'll have to specify a bit more.”
Wheeljack vented and rolled his optics. “The big one in the shuttle hangar?”
“Oh. That one. What would I do with that? And why do you always assume it's me who takes your stuff?”
Wheeljack glared at his bondmate. “You're the only one who dares. And anyways, who else would want an experimental shuttle?”
“RED ALERT! RED ALERT! DECEPTICON SPARK SIGNATURES DETECTED EXITING THE SHUTTLE BAY!” Red Alert screamed over the intercom.
Wheeljack's optics faded to an almost-white color in terror, and his audial indicators were dark and silent for a moment. “Except them,” he practically whispered.
“Hm? What's... Wheeljack?” Ratchet called as he turned away from the pile of spare parts he had been sorting to the now empty door frame. He strode to the door of his small Med Bay and stuck his head out. “Wheeljack! Get your aft back here and explain yourself!”
“No time!” the inventor called over his shoulder as he practically sprinted down the hallway. “That thing isn't tested! I haven't even run the specs through computerized simulations yet! And the Cons were just in the shuttle bay!”
Ratchet simply stared for a moment. Then it clicked, and he started running after his bondmate. A klik after he started moving, he opened a comm. ::Prowl! Those Cons! They stole 'Jack's experimental shuttle! We need a base-wide evacuation NOW!”
::How-?::
::'Jack's running for the shuttle bays. Said it wasn't tested. Think he has some theories.::
::Understood.:: The comm linen closed, but a moment later, Prowl's voice crackled over the intercom. “ATTENTION! WE HAVE A CODE 115-94! ALL PERSONEL, EVACUATE! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! GET TO YOUR DESIGNATED SHUTTLES AND GET AS FAR OUT OF THE SOLAR SYSTEM AS YOU CAN! I REPEAT! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!”
The Autobots, as a whole, ran for the shuttles and followed Wheeljack out of the solar system as fast as their thrusters could carry them.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
“Lookit that! They's runnin' scared! We steal this wicked ship an' they run!” the purple Decepticon crowed, staring gleefully at the fleeing ships, now just sparkling dots against the blackness of space. His companion, a slim, pale blue mech, was not so enthusiastic.
“I dunno. I mean... my sire was a seaman. Ran ships across the Great Rust Sea. Had a saying; why do turbo-rats abandon a ship?”
His purple companion glanced at him sideways, a knowing smirk on his face. “Since yer already gonna do it, just tell me; why do they abandon a ship?”
“When they know something you don't.”
“Huh?”
The blue mech sighed. “The idiots I work with,” he mumbled, then spoke loud enough for the purple mech to hear. “It means they know something bad's ab-”
The rest of his words were lost in fiery oblivion.
.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.
The Autobots watched as the explosion grew, enveloping planets, moons, and finally blotting out the sun they orbited. They hovered barely outside the blast radius, and though the sight of the brilliant supernova of fire stunned them all, they heard nothing, as sound waves don't travel through vacuums.
When the fire had faded, and empty space was all that remained of the solar system, everyone in the cockpit of the command shuttle turned to stare at the inventor, who was trying (and failing) to cower behind Prowl.
“Heh...” he chuckled weakly. “It... was a nice boom...? And,” he hurredly added when he saw Ratchet heading in his direction, “nobody got hurt!”
“Are you sure about that?” Ratchet hissed as he stalked forward, wrench settled easily in his hand. Everyone flinched as the heavy metal met the reinforced helm of Wheeljack.
The inventor gazed pitifully up at the raging medic from where he was sprawled across the floor of the shuttle.
“See?” Ratchet growled. “One Autobot injured. And I’ll bet good high-grade that the report will describe more than just a bump on the helm!”
“Ratchet!” the inventor yelped. “It wasn't actually my fault this time!”
“He does have a point,” Prowl murmured, then flinched and lowered his doorwings as the medic turned his icy glare on the tactician.
Wheeljack just let his helm thunk back onto the floor. “You do have to admit... It was a big boom...” he muttered with a smirk, though thankfully, no one could see it through his mask.
“I'll show you a big boom,” Ratchet rumbled as he raised his wrench once again.
Title: Unrequited
Rating: PG
Continuity: G1
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Anonymous
Disclaimer: *sighs* Does anyone have a genie in a bottle I can borrow?
Prompt: Prompt 5: Scenario: One character has a deep crazy burning crush on another. The other doesn't have a clue.
I always loved him, even if I never said. Always harbored those burning feelings in my spark.
I never spoke. Never said a word of my affections. Always stood by when he found a new fling, but was always there when he was left, or did the leaving, and hurt. I offered myself to ease his pain, but he never saw me as any more than a friend.
When we joined the Autobots, I thought it might be different. I thought that we might finally have something. A new environment, strange mechs, strange lifestyle.
But he didn't. We didn't. Instead, he found someone else. Prowl. Everyone else saw him as simply a tight-aft, walking rule book. But Jazz saw something else, just like he did with everyone. He always saw straight into a mech's spark.
It made me wonder why he never saw through me. Maybe because we had always been friends, back since our sparkling orns. Maybe because I never presented myself as anything other than a friend? He had often complimented my acting skills.
I watched from afar as the two black and whites grew closer. As they started spending more time together, and Jazz started spending less time with me.
I was still his friend - that, I highly doubted, would ever change - but something had shifted. I was no longer in the center ring of his universe. That center ring belonged only to Prowl.
How I hated that name. Prowl. The mech who stole my beloved, my unrequited love. I still respected him. He was a good mech, a smart mech, and he did his best to keep us all alive. But that didn't change the fact that he took what was mine.
Or perhaps it wasn't mine? These humans were full of sayings. That one I heard a few local solar cycles ago... “If you truly love something, let it go, and if it never comes back, then you will know that it was never yours. But if it does come back, you know it's yours forever.”
Or something like that. And I never made a move on Jazz, never held on enough that I'd have to let go. I had spent too long waiting in the shadows, and had never presented myself as an option. Jazz had never known, and I had never bolstered up the courage to tell him.
I sank lower in my chair as I watched the two talk over their energon, a cube of high-grade in my hand. They were both smiling, and the expression looked strange on Prowl. They were happy.
I vented. Jazz wasn't mine. As much as I may have wished it, he had made his choice, and it wasn't me.
I downed the cube in one gulp, shuddering slightly as the energy hit my systems. Another flash of rage twisted my circuits as I watched as the two linked hands on the table.
Perhaps Jazz wasn't mine, but I sure as pit didn't like that he was Prowl's.
Then my spark filled with gleeful hope. Jazz's flings never lasted long. He would abandon Prowl, or Prowl would abandon him soon enough, and this time, this time I would tell him. This time I would sweep him off his pedes and declare my love.
I smirked in my dark corner as I unsubspaced another cube of high-grade and knocked back a drink. Jazz would be mine soon enough.
Title: Sensitive
Rating: PG
Continuity: Movieverse
Characters: Jazz, Sam Witwicky, Ratchet
Disclaimer: Seriously. I want that genie.
Prompt: Prompt 6: Virus
There were many things about the Cybertronians that surprised the humans. Or simply made them stop and think. This was one of them.
When Sam had heard that Jazz had gotten a virus, he had gotten rather panicked - he knew what viruses did to his computer. He didn't want to wish that on any Cybertronian.
So when he walked into the Med Bay, fully expecting to see Jazz prone on a berth, perhaps twitching, or perhaps simply “shut down,” he was surprised to see Jazz sitting up, grinning, and kicking his pedes.
“Uh... Hi, Jazz,” he said, striding quickly over to the stairs installed against the wall at the head of every berth.
“Hiya, Sam!”
“I heard you had a virus,” the boy said as he reached the top of the stairs and walked onto the berth.
“I do.” Jazz smirked and nodded. “Though it ain't much like anythin' you humans get.”
“Yeah, I figured... What do viruses do to you guys?”
“Oh, all kinds o' things. Ah remember one time, Prowler got a virus that made him speak in rhymes. 'T was funny. Ah! Watch... y' don' wanna touch me.”
Sam gave him an odd look. “Why? I can't catch it.”
Jazz grimaced. “Ah know. But this virus's messin' with mah energy regulation. Ah'm... Ah guess y'd call it super sensitive. 'N y' know how we've all got energy runnin' though out frames 'n armor? Well, with this virus, Ah can't c'ntrol it.”
Sam nodded in understanding, and kept a healthy distance, not wanting to get shocked. “How'd you pick it up?”
Jazz chuckled nervously. “'S... 's actually a virus Ah made mahself. Makes th' energy hard t' control, but also makes meh much more sensitive. Ah was jus' on a mission... Ah use it 'lot t' keep 'ware o' mah surroundin's.”
“He does this far too often,” Ratchet rumbled as he strode out of his office, a datachip in hand. “Enough that I’ve learned to keep the antivirus ready when he comes back.”
Sam frowned. “Wait. Didn't you say you made the virus yourself? Why does Ratchet have the antivirus and not you?”
Jazz chuckled and ran his hand over the back of his helm, a nervous gesture many of them had picked up from the humans. “Well... sometimes... it kinda... mutates. That's what virus's do, y'know. Ah picked up another little virus from th' Con's computer. Jus' a little thing, s'posed t' disable motor functions. Ah've had the antivirus fer that one fer a long time, but it kinda messed a bit with mah virus a'fore Ah could stop 't. Ratch' keeps a basic antivirus fer mine, and his medical codin' 'llows him t' modify it much quicker 'n Ah could.”
Ratchet sighed as he handed the chip over. “Jazz is right. I just wish he wouldn't use that fragging virus as much as he does. It gets corrupted far to easily.”
“Hey, Ah'm jus' givin' ya practice, Ratch'!”
“I already have enough of that without you. How is it?”
“Done 'n done. Thanks, Ratchet.”
“No problem Jazz. I don't expect to see you for at least a month.”
“Yup! Wanna lift, Sam?”
Sam eyed the offered hand for a moment. “I suppose. As long as you're sure that the virus is gone.”
“Cross mah spark 'n hope 't die. Ow! Ratchet! It's jus' a sayin'!” Jazz yelped as he clutched his helm.
Ratchet scowled playfully. “Even so. I spend enough time keeping you from death without you joking about it, much less in my presence. Now get out.”
“With pleasure!”
Jazz hurried from the Med Bay, human in his hand and virus free.