Esprise
Title: Esprise
Rating: R
Genre: Psychological Thriller
Summary: Where an unstoppable force meets an unmovable object
Warnings: Dark
Notes: Many thanks to many people for their encouragement in writing this. Most especially cave_cat for letting me bounce the ideas that started this -although it evolved so much its almost unrecognizable from the original-, oasis_pink_peng for the inspiration and encouragement when I was ready to give up on it and of course the title, and finally my wonderful, tireless beta okami_myrrhibis.
"Megatron you are under arrest." The enforcer's voice was calm and cool. Megatron smirked. This black and white enforcer was intriguing. Perhaps he'd just have to keep him...
“Indeed Enforcer?” Despite the weapon trained on him, the former Lord High Protector smirked, completely at ease.
“By order of the Senate you are to be brought in to face the charge of treason.” There was something off about the situation. His logic circuits worked furiously trying to determine the source of the warlord's confidence. He was injured, weaponless, alone, and yet he still acted as if he had complete control of the situation.
His optics remained trained on his target, when the other's optics flickered to the door. A flicker of movement barely in sight. He turned, bringing his weapon to bear. “Bang.” As he fell, Prowl realized the entire encounter had taken less then thirty clicks.
Had he fallen asleep at his desk again? He groaned. If he had, his partner was going to kill him. Jazz was insistent about that sort of thing. He powered up his optics, running a couple of refresh cycles on them.
This was certainly not his office. He kept his head down, subtly scanning the area. He was bound, kneeling before a large structure, one vaguely resembling a throne. He frowned attempting to analyze the area, but found that his systems were still disrupted by the large surge of electrical power which had rendered him temporarily offline.
He kept his head down, attempting to assess the situation, and to keep his captors from becoming aware of his state of consciousness. He didn't so much as flinch when Megatron's pedes became visible in his limited view. The warlord stood casually observing him, before leaving the area. The sound of a door hissing shut informed Prowl that he had left the room all together.
“Hey Prowler.”
His head shot up and he twisted as much as his bonds would allow. His partner lounged against the wall, apparently unconcerned.
“Jazz, get me out of these. We've got approximately 2.3 breems by my estimation before he returns. We need to be prepared to arrest him before then.”
“Sorry Prowls, I can't do that.”
His head shot up, optics fixed on the other mech, logic circuits working.
“And the dots connect.” Jazz smirked.
“You're a traitor.”
“Can't be a traitor to something you never believed in the first place.”
“Double agent then.”
“At your service.” He moved off the wall to give an embellished bow. “Brought in special to deal with one incorruptible Enforcer with overactive logic circuits.” He paused. “You do realize those things make you far too easy to predict.”
“So I've been informed,” the Enforcer intoned, tugging at his restraints.
Jazz threw back his head and laughed. “See that's what I like about you Prowly ma' mech. Always with the wit.”
The door hissed opened, cutting off anything more that might have been said. Prowl could twist his head just far enough to look back over his shoulder, although his wings blocked the majority of his view.
His head shot in the other direction; a sting in his cheek. Deceptively gently fingers turned his face to the mech in front of him. "Ah Prowl. 'M not enough for you?"
Lips brushed over his, as a low chuckle echoed. He flinched. A pause. Then it was as if Jazz tried to possess him. Demanding, punishing. A clawed grip replacing the gentle fingers upon his chin, and all the while the laughter echoed.
“Very good Jazz.”
“My lord.”
His fans sounded impossibly loud. He hadn't even been aware of Jazz drawing away. Air cycled furiously, far beyond his point of control. Rapidly the warehouse came back into focus. His wings twitched, tracking the movements of the warlord, even as his optics followed the spy.
"Carry on." Megatron eased himself carelessly onto his impromptu throne, and Jazz let a lazy smirk cross his face. Maliciousness radiated from him as he turned once more to face his former partner. Prowl was his.
Another slap. His voice was a low growl, carrying no further than the audios it was intended for. "Only me Prowl."
Seductive, gently, deadly. Like the edge of a blade, a swords of legends. How many mechs had Jazz lead to their deaths like this? His spark cried out to focus only on the mech before him. The dangerous, caged cybercat, barely restrained. But it would be folly to ignore the presence of the one just in the shadows. Like a deadly turbobear: unrestrained, raw power, which toyed with its prey; enjoying its struggles and pain. Just before carelessly ripping it to shreds with a single swipe.
“Just kill me. Why continue this pointless exercise? You are over reaching yourself, if you think I would ever join the Decepticons.”
“Tut tut Prowlie. Killing you would be such a waste...” Lips closed over the tip of his chevron, giving a hard suck, before pulling away. “That's why we're here. After all you can't want to remain a drone of the Senate,” he spat out the word, “for the rest of your existence. That's all they see you as, you know.” A light trailing teasing touch traced up a doorwing, as the cat circled.
Glaring, the Enforcer stared ahead, determination holding the appendages steady. He was above this. Incorruptible. He didn't move, even when a weight draped over his shoulders. “You could do so much Prowler. So much more. Those 'rats they hold you back ya know. You ain't dispensin' justice. Not for them. It's their will yer bringing down on those mechs ya drag in. Like a faithful dog.”
His optics locked on the silver mech as the warlord resettled himself. The former High Lord Protector rested his chin in his palm, a bored look on his face. A bored look, until the fires of amusement became apparent in the deep crimson of his gaze.
A prick of claws at his throat snapped his attention to Jazz. “Now now sweets. Don't like it when your attention wanders.” There was a hiss of... something in his voice. Something Prowl couldn't identify. “Its rude not ta pay attention when others are speakin' to ya. Didn't ya precious Senate program any manners in ta ya? Guess they thought a tool wouldn't need 'em.”
“Why are you doing this?” It was emotionless. A question asked as if one already knew the answer but wanted to confirm that they were right. Only one heard the twinge of desperation.
“Ain't it obvious Prowler?” He nuzzled the black and white enforcer. “I luv ya.”
“Tin.”
Prowl felt the hitch of intakes at the insult. Good. He would keep the other off balance.
His head lurched back, dislodging the saboteur. A meandering cut traced its way over his lips. Megatron stood, arm still extended from the throw. Prowl hadn't even seen him move; all of his attention had been focused on Jazz. In the silence the sound of scrap rattled.
“Enough. Jazz.” A flick of a finger and Megatron stalked out. Jazz followed, growling.
“Who's the dog now?” A breath just before the door closed with a snap.
Prowl sagged. He just had to hold out. Someone would notice soon that neither Jazz not Prowl had reported in yet, if they hadn't already. He would not break. He was the Law, the Justice of the Senate. He was incorruptible. He would not break. In this endurance contest the Decepticons had a time limit.
If only he could convince his spark of that.
“Jazz.”
“Aw Prowler never knew ya felt like that.” Prowl started. When had Jazz returned? He was silent as he slunk into the light. “Though if ya really mean it ya know what ya have to do. Me lord ain't very happy with ya Prowlybot. Getting' impatient, you know.”
“When Unicron bows to Primus!”
Jazz reeled back in exaggerated fashion. “Ya wound me with your words Prowls.” A soft smile appeared on his face. Slowly, ever so slowly, he approached. As though the kneeling mech would break if touched too hard, he brought his fingers to graze the other's face. “You know I'm doing this all for you Prowl. Everything that I am is for you.”
“Wastrel.” Prowl hardened his spark. He wouldn't let Jazz toy with him. Anything he might have felt for his former partner was dead. “You're just trying to break me. I know you Jazz. You never do anything except for one reason. You just want to be the best. And corrupting the incorruptible would be quite the crowning achievement.”
Instead of the expected violence, Jazz's touch never changed. “Oh my Prowl, you still have so much to learn about this world.” His fingers traced over slightly opened lips. “It's not the place of justice and virtue those cross-wired motherboards of controllers have programmed you to think. It's dirty. Rotten to the core.” He leaned his forehead forward resting it intimately against the other's chevron. “So why do you serve them? You ain't as naïve as to believe the slag they're spewing. So what is it that keeps you chained to their side?”
Prowl stared, but not at Jazz. It seemed as though his gaze simply went through the other. He would not be corrupted. It was impossible.
“That's just it ain't it? Ya ain't there by your own will. Ya truly are chained. Well Prowls...” he kissed the other's nose. “I got the key right here.”
“And what makes you think your offer is any better?”
Jazz licked him. He danced back, throwing his eyes open wide. “Oh Prowlers don't you know? We Decepticons might be brutal... but at least we're honest.” His mouth curved in a sly smile. “We don't purposefully manipulate a mech into a role without his knowing.”
Prowl narrowed his optics, an analysis program working furiously. What was it the derelict was not saying so very clearly? Was he implying...
There. Jazz turned, light glinting off his visor. “Yeah Prowl. You. Your precious Senate made you. They don't just call you incorruptible. They made you that way.”
“Liar.”
“Liar? Me? What need have I to lie? After all the truth is so much more... satisfying.”
“Liar. You can't break me, so you want me to turn from the Senate. To think you're my only option. It won't work.”
“But oh sweet Prowl, it already has.”
“You can't program someone to be incorruptible. It won't logically work.”
“And yet you stand here and defend them. Anyone... everyone else would have given in by now... or at least pretended to. But not my dear Prowler. Your own actions betray the program!”
He was suddenly close - too close - again. “And that betrays the oh-so noble Senate.”
Prowl pitched backwards as though he'd been struck. “It won't work,” he hissed. “I know your game... you megalomaniac!”
Jazz laughed a low chuckle. “Wrong bot Prowlie. Yer thinking of Megatron. I have no desire to lead, or even have a position of power. I already have what I want. You.”
“Narcissist.”
“Now that one I can't deny.”
“You don't have me. You'll never have me. I will watch as you fall from your lofty heights.”
Jazz kissed him, swiping a glancing glossa to taste the gift Megatron had left, which had trickled just shy of the corner of his mouth. Then his fingers lifted the other's chin a fraction of an inch more. “Anyone ever tell you you're beautiful when you're angry?”
“No.”
“Good cause they'd be lyin'. Beautiful doesn't even come close to what you are.”
“Clichés? Some how I thought you could do better then that.” A beat. “Remove your hand.”
Jazz ignored him, locking their gazes.
It was too loud. He couldn't think with all this silence; the visor holding him more securely then chains ever could.
“Mine.”
It wasn't possessive or demanding. It was like a young child's declaration of ownership, matter of fact. A statement of fact; no more, no less.
The two just stared. Power, will, pure electricity crackled between them. Tensions grew so that one could almost hear the clock as each tick passed.
And it shattered as the door slammed open. Jazz snarled as he turned, intent on turning who ever had interrupted into scrap. The seeker stood in the open door.
“Where is Megatron?” The demand was arrogant, and careless; but as the second in command spoke it was enough to keep Jazz from rendering him into pieces small enough to fill an energon cube.
“He stepped out.”
“Hmph. Just shows he is not fit to be leader. However there is news.” He turned to leave.
“News.”
“Yes. Seems that the Senate is confidant enough in their little program; they're leaving him with us until it's convenient for them to retrieve him.” The seeker made to leave, only to walk directly into the chest of the gunformer he had been looking for. A powerful hit knocked him back and sent him sprawling. “My lord!”
“If they care that little for their toys, perhaps they aught to see what happens when they get broken.”
Prowl could not move as the discussion between the Decepticons continued. It was a lie. The Senate was feeding the Decepticons false information. Merely a basic ploy. One that had been used repeatedly with a high rate of success. It was that simple.
He came aware of Jazz standing in front of him. The other two had left and they were left alone once again.
“Well Prowl it seems we've reached the climax of this little scene.” The other black and white leaned in close. “And because I love you I can offer you a choice. After all if I can't have you no one will. So join with me. Be mine. And live. Or I leave you here to bleed out,” a blade flicked out of its sheath, “after I slit your throat.”
With no emotion the other met his gaze.
“Now how you tell me this is real simple. If you want to live kiss me back. Otherwise...” The blade was laid across his throat. “Make your choice.” And with finality Jazz kissed him.
Rating: R
Genre: Psychological Thriller
Summary: Where an unstoppable force meets an unmovable object
Warnings: Dark
Notes: Many thanks to many people for their encouragement in writing this. Most especially cave_cat for letting me bounce the ideas that started this -although it evolved so much its almost unrecognizable from the original-, oasis_pink_peng for the inspiration and encouragement when I was ready to give up on it and of course the title, and finally my wonderful, tireless beta okami_myrrhibis.
"Megatron you are under arrest." The enforcer's voice was calm and cool. Megatron smirked. This black and white enforcer was intriguing. Perhaps he'd just have to keep him...
“Indeed Enforcer?” Despite the weapon trained on him, the former Lord High Protector smirked, completely at ease.
“By order of the Senate you are to be brought in to face the charge of treason.” There was something off about the situation. His logic circuits worked furiously trying to determine the source of the warlord's confidence. He was injured, weaponless, alone, and yet he still acted as if he had complete control of the situation.
His optics remained trained on his target, when the other's optics flickered to the door. A flicker of movement barely in sight. He turned, bringing his weapon to bear. “Bang.” As he fell, Prowl realized the entire encounter had taken less then thirty clicks.
Had he fallen asleep at his desk again? He groaned. If he had, his partner was going to kill him. Jazz was insistent about that sort of thing. He powered up his optics, running a couple of refresh cycles on them.
This was certainly not his office. He kept his head down, subtly scanning the area. He was bound, kneeling before a large structure, one vaguely resembling a throne. He frowned attempting to analyze the area, but found that his systems were still disrupted by the large surge of electrical power which had rendered him temporarily offline.
He kept his head down, attempting to assess the situation, and to keep his captors from becoming aware of his state of consciousness. He didn't so much as flinch when Megatron's pedes became visible in his limited view. The warlord stood casually observing him, before leaving the area. The sound of a door hissing shut informed Prowl that he had left the room all together.
“Hey Prowler.”
His head shot up and he twisted as much as his bonds would allow. His partner lounged against the wall, apparently unconcerned.
“Jazz, get me out of these. We've got approximately 2.3 breems by my estimation before he returns. We need to be prepared to arrest him before then.”
“Sorry Prowls, I can't do that.”
His head shot up, optics fixed on the other mech, logic circuits working.
“And the dots connect.” Jazz smirked.
“You're a traitor.”
“Can't be a traitor to something you never believed in the first place.”
“Double agent then.”
“At your service.” He moved off the wall to give an embellished bow. “Brought in special to deal with one incorruptible Enforcer with overactive logic circuits.” He paused. “You do realize those things make you far too easy to predict.”
“So I've been informed,” the Enforcer intoned, tugging at his restraints.
Jazz threw back his head and laughed. “See that's what I like about you Prowly ma' mech. Always with the wit.”
The door hissed opened, cutting off anything more that might have been said. Prowl could twist his head just far enough to look back over his shoulder, although his wings blocked the majority of his view.
His head shot in the other direction; a sting in his cheek. Deceptively gently fingers turned his face to the mech in front of him. "Ah Prowl. 'M not enough for you?"
Lips brushed over his, as a low chuckle echoed. He flinched. A pause. Then it was as if Jazz tried to possess him. Demanding, punishing. A clawed grip replacing the gentle fingers upon his chin, and all the while the laughter echoed.
“Very good Jazz.”
“My lord.”
His fans sounded impossibly loud. He hadn't even been aware of Jazz drawing away. Air cycled furiously, far beyond his point of control. Rapidly the warehouse came back into focus. His wings twitched, tracking the movements of the warlord, even as his optics followed the spy.
"Carry on." Megatron eased himself carelessly onto his impromptu throne, and Jazz let a lazy smirk cross his face. Maliciousness radiated from him as he turned once more to face his former partner. Prowl was his.
Another slap. His voice was a low growl, carrying no further than the audios it was intended for. "Only me Prowl."
Seductive, gently, deadly. Like the edge of a blade, a swords of legends. How many mechs had Jazz lead to their deaths like this? His spark cried out to focus only on the mech before him. The dangerous, caged cybercat, barely restrained. But it would be folly to ignore the presence of the one just in the shadows. Like a deadly turbobear: unrestrained, raw power, which toyed with its prey; enjoying its struggles and pain. Just before carelessly ripping it to shreds with a single swipe.
“Just kill me. Why continue this pointless exercise? You are over reaching yourself, if you think I would ever join the Decepticons.”
“Tut tut Prowlie. Killing you would be such a waste...” Lips closed over the tip of his chevron, giving a hard suck, before pulling away. “That's why we're here. After all you can't want to remain a drone of the Senate,” he spat out the word, “for the rest of your existence. That's all they see you as, you know.” A light trailing teasing touch traced up a doorwing, as the cat circled.
Glaring, the Enforcer stared ahead, determination holding the appendages steady. He was above this. Incorruptible. He didn't move, even when a weight draped over his shoulders. “You could do so much Prowler. So much more. Those 'rats they hold you back ya know. You ain't dispensin' justice. Not for them. It's their will yer bringing down on those mechs ya drag in. Like a faithful dog.”
His optics locked on the silver mech as the warlord resettled himself. The former High Lord Protector rested his chin in his palm, a bored look on his face. A bored look, until the fires of amusement became apparent in the deep crimson of his gaze.
A prick of claws at his throat snapped his attention to Jazz. “Now now sweets. Don't like it when your attention wanders.” There was a hiss of... something in his voice. Something Prowl couldn't identify. “Its rude not ta pay attention when others are speakin' to ya. Didn't ya precious Senate program any manners in ta ya? Guess they thought a tool wouldn't need 'em.”
“Why are you doing this?” It was emotionless. A question asked as if one already knew the answer but wanted to confirm that they were right. Only one heard the twinge of desperation.
“Ain't it obvious Prowler?” He nuzzled the black and white enforcer. “I luv ya.”
“Tin.”
Prowl felt the hitch of intakes at the insult. Good. He would keep the other off balance.
His head lurched back, dislodging the saboteur. A meandering cut traced its way over his lips. Megatron stood, arm still extended from the throw. Prowl hadn't even seen him move; all of his attention had been focused on Jazz. In the silence the sound of scrap rattled.
“Enough. Jazz.” A flick of a finger and Megatron stalked out. Jazz followed, growling.
“Who's the dog now?” A breath just before the door closed with a snap.
Prowl sagged. He just had to hold out. Someone would notice soon that neither Jazz not Prowl had reported in yet, if they hadn't already. He would not break. He was the Law, the Justice of the Senate. He was incorruptible. He would not break. In this endurance contest the Decepticons had a time limit.
If only he could convince his spark of that.
“Jazz.”
“Aw Prowler never knew ya felt like that.” Prowl started. When had Jazz returned? He was silent as he slunk into the light. “Though if ya really mean it ya know what ya have to do. Me lord ain't very happy with ya Prowlybot. Getting' impatient, you know.”
“When Unicron bows to Primus!”
Jazz reeled back in exaggerated fashion. “Ya wound me with your words Prowls.” A soft smile appeared on his face. Slowly, ever so slowly, he approached. As though the kneeling mech would break if touched too hard, he brought his fingers to graze the other's face. “You know I'm doing this all for you Prowl. Everything that I am is for you.”
“Wastrel.” Prowl hardened his spark. He wouldn't let Jazz toy with him. Anything he might have felt for his former partner was dead. “You're just trying to break me. I know you Jazz. You never do anything except for one reason. You just want to be the best. And corrupting the incorruptible would be quite the crowning achievement.”
Instead of the expected violence, Jazz's touch never changed. “Oh my Prowl, you still have so much to learn about this world.” His fingers traced over slightly opened lips. “It's not the place of justice and virtue those cross-wired motherboards of controllers have programmed you to think. It's dirty. Rotten to the core.” He leaned his forehead forward resting it intimately against the other's chevron. “So why do you serve them? You ain't as naïve as to believe the slag they're spewing. So what is it that keeps you chained to their side?”
Prowl stared, but not at Jazz. It seemed as though his gaze simply went through the other. He would not be corrupted. It was impossible.
“That's just it ain't it? Ya ain't there by your own will. Ya truly are chained. Well Prowls...” he kissed the other's nose. “I got the key right here.”
“And what makes you think your offer is any better?”
Jazz licked him. He danced back, throwing his eyes open wide. “Oh Prowlers don't you know? We Decepticons might be brutal... but at least we're honest.” His mouth curved in a sly smile. “We don't purposefully manipulate a mech into a role without his knowing.”
Prowl narrowed his optics, an analysis program working furiously. What was it the derelict was not saying so very clearly? Was he implying...
There. Jazz turned, light glinting off his visor. “Yeah Prowl. You. Your precious Senate made you. They don't just call you incorruptible. They made you that way.”
“Liar.”
“Liar? Me? What need have I to lie? After all the truth is so much more... satisfying.”
“Liar. You can't break me, so you want me to turn from the Senate. To think you're my only option. It won't work.”
“But oh sweet Prowl, it already has.”
“You can't program someone to be incorruptible. It won't logically work.”
“And yet you stand here and defend them. Anyone... everyone else would have given in by now... or at least pretended to. But not my dear Prowler. Your own actions betray the program!”
He was suddenly close - too close - again. “And that betrays the oh-so noble Senate.”
Prowl pitched backwards as though he'd been struck. “It won't work,” he hissed. “I know your game... you megalomaniac!”
Jazz laughed a low chuckle. “Wrong bot Prowlie. Yer thinking of Megatron. I have no desire to lead, or even have a position of power. I already have what I want. You.”
“Narcissist.”
“Now that one I can't deny.”
“You don't have me. You'll never have me. I will watch as you fall from your lofty heights.”
Jazz kissed him, swiping a glancing glossa to taste the gift Megatron had left, which had trickled just shy of the corner of his mouth. Then his fingers lifted the other's chin a fraction of an inch more. “Anyone ever tell you you're beautiful when you're angry?”
“No.”
“Good cause they'd be lyin'. Beautiful doesn't even come close to what you are.”
“Clichés? Some how I thought you could do better then that.” A beat. “Remove your hand.”
Jazz ignored him, locking their gazes.
It was too loud. He couldn't think with all this silence; the visor holding him more securely then chains ever could.
“Mine.”
It wasn't possessive or demanding. It was like a young child's declaration of ownership, matter of fact. A statement of fact; no more, no less.
The two just stared. Power, will, pure electricity crackled between them. Tensions grew so that one could almost hear the clock as each tick passed.
And it shattered as the door slammed open. Jazz snarled as he turned, intent on turning who ever had interrupted into scrap. The seeker stood in the open door.
“Where is Megatron?” The demand was arrogant, and careless; but as the second in command spoke it was enough to keep Jazz from rendering him into pieces small enough to fill an energon cube.
“He stepped out.”
“Hmph. Just shows he is not fit to be leader. However there is news.” He turned to leave.
“News.”
“Yes. Seems that the Senate is confidant enough in their little program; they're leaving him with us until it's convenient for them to retrieve him.” The seeker made to leave, only to walk directly into the chest of the gunformer he had been looking for. A powerful hit knocked him back and sent him sprawling. “My lord!”
“If they care that little for their toys, perhaps they aught to see what happens when they get broken.”
Prowl could not move as the discussion between the Decepticons continued. It was a lie. The Senate was feeding the Decepticons false information. Merely a basic ploy. One that had been used repeatedly with a high rate of success. It was that simple.
He came aware of Jazz standing in front of him. The other two had left and they were left alone once again.
“Well Prowl it seems we've reached the climax of this little scene.” The other black and white leaned in close. “And because I love you I can offer you a choice. After all if I can't have you no one will. So join with me. Be mine. And live. Or I leave you here to bleed out,” a blade flicked out of its sheath, “after I slit your throat.”
With no emotion the other met his gaze.
“Now how you tell me this is real simple. If you want to live kiss me back. Otherwise...” The blade was laid across his throat. “Make your choice.” And with finality Jazz kissed him.