Mini Fic: The Super Secret Special Ops Mission
Title: The Super Secret Special Ops Mission
Continuity: G1
Rating: PG
Character(s): Mirage/First Aid/Jazz, Hoist
Warnings: None
Summary: When SpecOps are drunk there is no telling what they will do
Notes: Prompt: Mirage/First Aid/Jazz SpecOps Special
Part of the Oath and Covenant AU. Series masterpost here
Disclaimer: Transformers and all related stuff still doesn't belong to me :(
First Aid was not unsurprised to see a mech staggering into the medbay. Not given the party that was currently ongoing after yet another victory. He was however, surprised that they were so early. It was normally quite a while before the first mechs appeared to complain of processor aches.
He shared a glance with Hoist, after all, he was now on duty, not First Aid. They rotated each party and this time Ratchet had pulled first shift and was now probably blissfully cratered somewhere, and First Aid had just finished the second shift. He had been intending to head for the rec room before the mech had wandered in and headed straight towards him.
“Aid!” He blinked, resetting his optics as Jazz tripped up and caught himself on thin air. “We,” he spread his arms to indicate a plural number of mechs when it was only himself present, “are on a very special mission.”
That said Jazz managed to stay unnatuarally upright for a drunk mech as he waited for an answer from the perplexed Protectobot.
“A mission?” Another glance at Hoist revealed no answers as the older mech seemed just as confused.
“Yes. A mission. A special mission. Very special.” Jazz decided that the lack of protest was as much acceptance as he needed as he latched onto an arm and began to drag First Aid out of the medbay.
“Wait.” First Aid finally realised that he still had no idea what was going on and grabbed onto the door frame, survival instincts telling him that following a drunk Jazz was not entirely a good plan.
“Can't wait.” The voice was right behind his helm and he barely got a flash of silver and blue before he was hoisted into the air. At least he now knew why Jazz had been using the plural. “We have a mission to complete.” Behind him Hoist's laughter drifted out of the medbay. Traitor.
“So, what is your mission?” First Aid finally asked as Mirage wobbled up the corridor, struggling wasn't looking too good, not with his aft in the air and his helm dangling around Mirage's skid plate. If the Noble hit the floor there was a high chance it would be quite painful.
Jazz slowed down until was behind Mirage, his helm tilted to one side as he tried to look at First Aid the right way up. “Abduct ourselves a medic. Thoroughly frag the medic into a pool of molten slag.”
First Aid sent a quick diagnostic ping at his audial receiver. Everything came back correct and he replayed the answer again. While he might have been curious as to what brought on the need to abduct themselves a medic, a bet or a dare being highest on the list, protesting was something only a fool would do. “Well, why didn't you say so sooner?”
One slender hand reached up to pat him on the aft as he relaxed and Jazz just grinned happily as he trailed after them.
Continuity: G1
Rating: PG
Character(s): Mirage/First Aid/Jazz, Hoist
Warnings: None
Summary: When SpecOps are drunk there is no telling what they will do
Notes: Prompt: Mirage/First Aid/Jazz SpecOps Special
Part of the Oath and Covenant AU. Series masterpost here
Disclaimer: Transformers and all related stuff still doesn't belong to me :(
First Aid was not unsurprised to see a mech staggering into the medbay. Not given the party that was currently ongoing after yet another victory. He was however, surprised that they were so early. It was normally quite a while before the first mechs appeared to complain of processor aches.
He shared a glance with Hoist, after all, he was now on duty, not First Aid. They rotated each party and this time Ratchet had pulled first shift and was now probably blissfully cratered somewhere, and First Aid had just finished the second shift. He had been intending to head for the rec room before the mech had wandered in and headed straight towards him.
“Aid!” He blinked, resetting his optics as Jazz tripped up and caught himself on thin air. “We,” he spread his arms to indicate a plural number of mechs when it was only himself present, “are on a very special mission.”
That said Jazz managed to stay unnatuarally upright for a drunk mech as he waited for an answer from the perplexed Protectobot.
“A mission?” Another glance at Hoist revealed no answers as the older mech seemed just as confused.
“Yes. A mission. A special mission. Very special.” Jazz decided that the lack of protest was as much acceptance as he needed as he latched onto an arm and began to drag First Aid out of the medbay.
“Wait.” First Aid finally realised that he still had no idea what was going on and grabbed onto the door frame, survival instincts telling him that following a drunk Jazz was not entirely a good plan.
“Can't wait.” The voice was right behind his helm and he barely got a flash of silver and blue before he was hoisted into the air. At least he now knew why Jazz had been using the plural. “We have a mission to complete.” Behind him Hoist's laughter drifted out of the medbay. Traitor.
“So, what is your mission?” First Aid finally asked as Mirage wobbled up the corridor, struggling wasn't looking too good, not with his aft in the air and his helm dangling around Mirage's skid plate. If the Noble hit the floor there was a high chance it would be quite painful.
Jazz slowed down until was behind Mirage, his helm tilted to one side as he tried to look at First Aid the right way up. “Abduct ourselves a medic. Thoroughly frag the medic into a pool of molten slag.”
First Aid sent a quick diagnostic ping at his audial receiver. Everything came back correct and he replayed the answer again. While he might have been curious as to what brought on the need to abduct themselves a medic, a bet or a dare being highest on the list, protesting was something only a fool would do. “Well, why didn't you say so sooner?”
One slender hand reached up to pat him on the aft as he relaxed and Jazz just grinned happily as he trailed after them.