(no subject)
Another post to not mix together me being all whiny about my life and the fics.
Title: Family (Chapter 7 & 8)
Rating: T
Pairing/Characters: Prowl/Jazz, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Ratchet
Warnings: pre-slash
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Title: Wild Ride: So many different POV's @.@
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Ooc-ness
Pairing: uuhhh....
Summary: Buffy Summer returns to Oregon. Prowl locks up. The mayor plans a vacation. Buffy looks for a hunting spot, Wildrider tells his thoughts on the whole thing, Jazz is being sneaky, Motormaster is still pissed and Blaster appears to be pulling the longest shift ever.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Like always, tell me of any mistakes you find and I'll fix them as soon as possible.
"talking"
::comm::
'thinking'
Wild Ride
Chapter 5: Weirdest caravan driving through the safe streets of Portland
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(Portland’s streets: Buffy Edition)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy was cursing forgetting to ask the Mayor where exactly he saw the parading blue demons. Really, how newbie was that? If the others knew about it they would be laughing at her. Well, not Giles. Giles would just clean his glasses and murmur an ‘Oh, dear’ before coming up with some excuse for research. Ugh, she hated research. It was like homework but in a funny language.
Well, she could always give him a call tomorrow morning and ask him. If she didn’t find them tonight. They were blue. It wasn’t supposed to be that hard to find them… Oh, well… She would have to be content with visiting a cemetery or a park.
She pulled the map again, using her knees to keep the steering wheel in place and pushing a random button to get the lights inside to turn on. Now, what was closer? Park or cemetery?
‘South Park Blocks… Nice.’ - She thought as she braked the car, did a U-turn, drove back and made a left turn. The place was big and ran through Portland State University. It screamed buffet in the blonde’s mind.
She looked at the map again, completely forgetting about holding the steering wheel and getting way too close to hitting a wall. Not that she noticed being too busy trying to memorize the directions.
Once finished, she folded the map and took the steering wheel in her hands. She blinked at the slight tug it made, but dismissed it. No car was completely perfect.
She never noticed the white Porsche with a number four following behind. None of them noticed the strange formation of cars that was, for once, not rampaging through the streets but quietly following the Porsche.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(Porland International Airport)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Ratchet arrived to the airport, he didn’t arrive alone. Optimus Prime and the twins came with him. As the CMO of the Autobots he was not allowed out of the base without an escort during times of emergency. Megatron was not above trying to kill the medic to gain advantage in their war.
The ambulance took one look at the parked Datsun and resisted the urge to curse in front of the humans. He couldn’t wait until they got to the Ark and he could beat Prowl’s logic processor back in order.
Ratchet’s philosophy in life was that the only way to keep a mech out of the medbay was to hit him with a wrench until they learned to stop putting themselves in stupid situations like this. That philosophy had rarely failed him, at least until he joined the Ark’s crew. Looking on the bright side, he now had one of the best throwing arms in the entire squad… and he was positive he now had the most durable wrenches ever made in the history of Cybertron.
He turned his optics to the designated babysitters. There was nothing that irritated him more in life than being treated as if he couldn’t defend himself. But, since he knew the crew was pretty much fragged without him, he bore the situation in resigned silence… for the moment.
“Is he okay, Ratchet?” - Optimus asked, the worry over the status of the tactician could be heard.
“He’s fine. Just the usual freezing up when something doesn’t make sense.” - Ratchet replied. - “He isn’t moving anywhere and I need to get him to the Ark.”
“How?” - The red Lamborghini asked and Ratchet wished he could roll his optics like he’d seen humans do.
“Prime’s trailer. You and Sunshine over there better start working and put him inside.” - The medic commanded completely ignoring the reactions of the others.
Sunstreaker’s loud, - “Call me that again and I’m ripping your arms off and beating your processor with them.” - sent the red twin into a fit of giggles.
Optimus watched amused as his troops bantered with each other while working. It always amazed him how they’ve gone from comrades in arms to something close to what the humans call family. He remembered quite clearly when Sunstreaker’s threats were taken seriously instead of laughed off. Of course, he also noticed the increase in his attacks when the others didn’t take his threats seriously… or just because they were minibots. Sunstreaker thought that was reason enough to beat the smaller Bots and no amount of brig time had changed that belief.
“You touch me and you’re going to online as a toaster. A big ugly purple toaster, Sunstreaker.” - Continued the medic as the twins carefully moved Prowl’s body into Optimus’ trailer.
“You wouldn’t.” - Cried the golden Lamborghini indignantly.
“Try me.”
“Autbots.” - Optimus Prime spoke. The medic and the twins snapped into attention. - “Transform and roll out!”
The red truck began driving towards the Ark, soon flanked two Lamborghinis and an ambulance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(Portland‘s streets: Jazz Edition)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jazz was busy patrolling the streets in search of the Stunticon. He’d disappeared for hours after leaving a trail of scared people and minimal property damage. It confused him and he couldn’t blame Prowl for freezing up. The whole situation was giving him a processor ache.
Out of all the Stunticons, Wildrider was not one to pass the opportunity to crash into walls and run over people. Pit! He wasn’t one to pass the opportunity to blow something up, drive up the side of a building and run through the entire third floor before smashing another wall and dropping back to the street. Give it to the Decepticons to have mechs with vehicle modes that liked to pretend they were flying. What was he saying, those glitches could fly on their mech forms. Fraggers!
Well, wherever they went to Jazz couldn’t find them. Man, what he wouldn’t give for some entertainment right now. He started his rounds in the afternoon and it was already night. He wasn’t one to complain about driving around, but after hours of going around aimlessly he was getting bored.
::This is your favorite communications officer speaking, do you hear me?::
::I hear ya loud and clear, buddy. What’s up?::
::Optimus is getting back to the Ark with Prowl. We’re hoping he has some information that can help us or else Ratchet might rip him an new exhaust port. Anything new on your front?::
::Nah. It’s like they vanished in thin air.:: - The saboteur said taking a left turn and almost braked in surprise. - ::Scratch that, Blaster. I got visual.::
::Where are you? How many? I’ll send some backup over.::
:: Just Wildrider. Don’t know if the human’s with him, but he’s bein’ awful careful in his driving.::
::Careful? Are you sure you’re not malfunctioning?::
::The Jazz-man never malfunctions, buddy. And compared to his usual drive style he’s bein’ extremely careful.::
::Whatever you say, Jazz. Now tell me your location so I know where to send the others.::
::Don’t send anyone. I’m followin’ him. I wanna see what he’s gonna do. Tell Prime what I’m doing.::
::Jazz, don’t do anything stupid.::
::Hey, you know me. I wouldn’t so somethin’ like that.::
::It’s cause I know you that I say that.::
::Haha::
::Be careful Jazz.::
::Careful‘s my middle name, Blaster. Jazz out.::
Jazz closed the comm line and watched as the Decepticon in front of him drove without once hitting a lamp post or a civilian. He cringed as he got close to hitting a building, but he swerved away with so much force, the Ferrari almost flipped over. Only to right itself and move to the wrong side of the street, evading the incoming traffic instead of slamming into them while cackling like a maniac. Not that the Porsche was complaining but it made him wonder what was wrong with the Stunticon?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(Portland‘s streets: Motormaster Edition)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Motormaster was pissed. Well, he always was but this time it was more than usual. First he had to call Megatron ‘Lord’. Then, it took him two hours to convince Breakdown to get out. And he had to promise he would personally destroy anything that Breakdown believed was looking at him. Which meant he already destroyed fifteen cars, two lamp posts, a mailbox, and had to stomp on a squishy with a cell phone.
Drag Strip had then taken the destruction as a contest and was now doing his best to break Motormaster’s record. Something that Breakdown was now using to get Drag Strip to destroy more things he insisted were watching him. Which in turn annoyed the truck even more. Dead End, true to his word, was ignoring everything. The truck wondered why he couldn’t be a Constructicon. Those guys got along great, even if they were crazy as fuck.
“Not like it matters, but there’s an Autobot in front of us.” - Dead End’s voice took the truck out of his musing.
“What?”
“I knew it! I told you to destroy that bike!” - Cried the white Lamborghini. - “They’re always watching.”
The Kenworth ignored Breakdwon’s outburst. Instead, he watched the Autobot Porsche. He was following someone and the Stunticon leader had the suspicion that he just found the bastard that he was looking for. Unless it suddenly became easier to follow jets in a place full of skyscrapers. It didn‘t matter, he could stay behind until he was sure or he could head on fight the Autobot and risk the chance of loosing Wildrider while he had fun scraping the Porsche.
The grey and purple mech growled, the three cars behind him quieting. If there was one thing he hated, it was having to play nice. And he would have to do that in order to not get the silly Bot’s attention.
“Everyone, stay quiet and follow that Autobot.” - He roared at the three Stunticons behind him. He wasn’t one for subtlety, but he thought he deserved points for trying.
“I’ll be the quietest!”
“Okay. If I’m quiet they won’t look at me, right?”
“Quiet. Loud. Nothing matters in the end, you know.”
Motormaster stifled a sigh. Really, it was in times like this that he hated being leader.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(Portland‘s streets: Wildrider Edition)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was turning out to be an eventful day. Stomping on the driver and scaring the humans into bringing his shiny driver was fun. Driving to the mayor’s parking lot with her controlling him still made his energon pump work faster. She was hell on the road, even if she kept avoiding running through walls and stuff. Meh, nobody was perfect.
Her talk with the mayor was boring. The only highlight being that the man seemed okay with her talking about killing. That only meant that she will take him to do those patrols of her. The realization almost made him jump on his tires. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that he didn’t want her to know about him yet. Humans had this tendency to run away from them.
The only thing that had made him angry was that Paul that the mayor had talked about. She considered him to be ‘cute’. He had to remember to subspace that file and scan it for an address. He would have to make a visit to the man and kill him. If there was one person she had to find cute it was him, not some fleshy insect.
The group of humans watching her as she went to change clothes had made him furious. Too bad they had done as he said and left. He wouldn’t had minded if they defied him. That would’ve given him an excuse to play ‘how far can you throw the human’. He still wanted to beat Drag Strip to that. Fucker needed to have his ego shot down and killed twice.
They drove aimlessly, and he noticed her driving was a little tamer. She was probably tired. Humans had so little charge in them they needed lots of recharging breaks. At least she didn’t take him to the hotel. He was promised violence and he was going to have it. She seemed pretty adamant in finding some blue organics.
She pushed one of his buttons while unfolding the map. Wildrider was surprised at the sensation. It tickled! He managed to control some very unDecepticon giggles and turned on the lights inside his cab for her to read.
He grinned when she got too distracted and he took control to get her close to the wall, but he moved away from it. She wouldn’t be happy and the last thing he wanted was for her to get another car. He knew that stomping on them would get unwanted attention… No matter how much fun doing it was.
He gave her back control, enjoying the feel of soft fragile fingers on his steering wheel as she took them both to the university. His sensors telling him there was someone behind him, but not really acknowledging the warning. He was too busy wishing for a chance to run over the organics she was planning to kill.
Title: Family (Chapter 7 & 8)
Rating: T
Pairing/Characters: Prowl/Jazz, Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Ratchet
Warnings: pre-slash
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Title: Wild Ride: So many different POV's @.@
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Ooc-ness
Pairing: uuhhh....
Summary: Buffy Summer returns to Oregon. Prowl locks up. The mayor plans a vacation. Buffy looks for a hunting spot, Wildrider tells his thoughts on the whole thing, Jazz is being sneaky, Motormaster is still pissed and Blaster appears to be pulling the longest shift ever.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Like always, tell me of any mistakes you find and I'll fix them as soon as possible.
"talking"
::comm::
'thinking'
Wild Ride
Chapter 5: Weirdest caravan driving through the safe streets of Portland
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(Portland’s streets: Buffy Edition)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy was cursing forgetting to ask the Mayor where exactly he saw the parading blue demons. Really, how newbie was that? If the others knew about it they would be laughing at her. Well, not Giles. Giles would just clean his glasses and murmur an ‘Oh, dear’ before coming up with some excuse for research. Ugh, she hated research. It was like homework but in a funny language.
Well, she could always give him a call tomorrow morning and ask him. If she didn’t find them tonight. They were blue. It wasn’t supposed to be that hard to find them… Oh, well… She would have to be content with visiting a cemetery or a park.
She pulled the map again, using her knees to keep the steering wheel in place and pushing a random button to get the lights inside to turn on. Now, what was closer? Park or cemetery?
‘South Park Blocks… Nice.’ - She thought as she braked the car, did a U-turn, drove back and made a left turn. The place was big and ran through Portland State University. It screamed buffet in the blonde’s mind.
She looked at the map again, completely forgetting about holding the steering wheel and getting way too close to hitting a wall. Not that she noticed being too busy trying to memorize the directions.
Once finished, she folded the map and took the steering wheel in her hands. She blinked at the slight tug it made, but dismissed it. No car was completely perfect.
She never noticed the white Porsche with a number four following behind. None of them noticed the strange formation of cars that was, for once, not rampaging through the streets but quietly following the Porsche.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(Porland International Airport)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When Ratchet arrived to the airport, he didn’t arrive alone. Optimus Prime and the twins came with him. As the CMO of the Autobots he was not allowed out of the base without an escort during times of emergency. Megatron was not above trying to kill the medic to gain advantage in their war.
The ambulance took one look at the parked Datsun and resisted the urge to curse in front of the humans. He couldn’t wait until they got to the Ark and he could beat Prowl’s logic processor back in order.
Ratchet’s philosophy in life was that the only way to keep a mech out of the medbay was to hit him with a wrench until they learned to stop putting themselves in stupid situations like this. That philosophy had rarely failed him, at least until he joined the Ark’s crew. Looking on the bright side, he now had one of the best throwing arms in the entire squad… and he was positive he now had the most durable wrenches ever made in the history of Cybertron.
He turned his optics to the designated babysitters. There was nothing that irritated him more in life than being treated as if he couldn’t defend himself. But, since he knew the crew was pretty much fragged without him, he bore the situation in resigned silence… for the moment.
“Is he okay, Ratchet?” - Optimus asked, the worry over the status of the tactician could be heard.
“He’s fine. Just the usual freezing up when something doesn’t make sense.” - Ratchet replied. - “He isn’t moving anywhere and I need to get him to the Ark.”
“How?” - The red Lamborghini asked and Ratchet wished he could roll his optics like he’d seen humans do.
“Prime’s trailer. You and Sunshine over there better start working and put him inside.” - The medic commanded completely ignoring the reactions of the others.
Sunstreaker’s loud, - “Call me that again and I’m ripping your arms off and beating your processor with them.” - sent the red twin into a fit of giggles.
Optimus watched amused as his troops bantered with each other while working. It always amazed him how they’ve gone from comrades in arms to something close to what the humans call family. He remembered quite clearly when Sunstreaker’s threats were taken seriously instead of laughed off. Of course, he also noticed the increase in his attacks when the others didn’t take his threats seriously… or just because they were minibots. Sunstreaker thought that was reason enough to beat the smaller Bots and no amount of brig time had changed that belief.
“You touch me and you’re going to online as a toaster. A big ugly purple toaster, Sunstreaker.” - Continued the medic as the twins carefully moved Prowl’s body into Optimus’ trailer.
“You wouldn’t.” - Cried the golden Lamborghini indignantly.
“Try me.”
“Autbots.” - Optimus Prime spoke. The medic and the twins snapped into attention. - “Transform and roll out!”
The red truck began driving towards the Ark, soon flanked two Lamborghinis and an ambulance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(Portland‘s streets: Jazz Edition)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jazz was busy patrolling the streets in search of the Stunticon. He’d disappeared for hours after leaving a trail of scared people and minimal property damage. It confused him and he couldn’t blame Prowl for freezing up. The whole situation was giving him a processor ache.
Out of all the Stunticons, Wildrider was not one to pass the opportunity to crash into walls and run over people. Pit! He wasn’t one to pass the opportunity to blow something up, drive up the side of a building and run through the entire third floor before smashing another wall and dropping back to the street. Give it to the Decepticons to have mechs with vehicle modes that liked to pretend they were flying. What was he saying, those glitches could fly on their mech forms. Fraggers!
Well, wherever they went to Jazz couldn’t find them. Man, what he wouldn’t give for some entertainment right now. He started his rounds in the afternoon and it was already night. He wasn’t one to complain about driving around, but after hours of going around aimlessly he was getting bored.
::This is your favorite communications officer speaking, do you hear me?::
::I hear ya loud and clear, buddy. What’s up?::
::Optimus is getting back to the Ark with Prowl. We’re hoping he has some information that can help us or else Ratchet might rip him an new exhaust port. Anything new on your front?::
::Nah. It’s like they vanished in thin air.:: - The saboteur said taking a left turn and almost braked in surprise. - ::Scratch that, Blaster. I got visual.::
::Where are you? How many? I’ll send some backup over.::
:: Just Wildrider. Don’t know if the human’s with him, but he’s bein’ awful careful in his driving.::
::Careful? Are you sure you’re not malfunctioning?::
::The Jazz-man never malfunctions, buddy. And compared to his usual drive style he’s bein’ extremely careful.::
::Whatever you say, Jazz. Now tell me your location so I know where to send the others.::
::Don’t send anyone. I’m followin’ him. I wanna see what he’s gonna do. Tell Prime what I’m doing.::
::Jazz, don’t do anything stupid.::
::Hey, you know me. I wouldn’t so somethin’ like that.::
::It’s cause I know you that I say that.::
::Haha::
::Be careful Jazz.::
::Careful‘s my middle name, Blaster. Jazz out.::
Jazz closed the comm line and watched as the Decepticon in front of him drove without once hitting a lamp post or a civilian. He cringed as he got close to hitting a building, but he swerved away with so much force, the Ferrari almost flipped over. Only to right itself and move to the wrong side of the street, evading the incoming traffic instead of slamming into them while cackling like a maniac. Not that the Porsche was complaining but it made him wonder what was wrong with the Stunticon?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(Portland‘s streets: Motormaster Edition)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Motormaster was pissed. Well, he always was but this time it was more than usual. First he had to call Megatron ‘Lord’. Then, it took him two hours to convince Breakdown to get out. And he had to promise he would personally destroy anything that Breakdown believed was looking at him. Which meant he already destroyed fifteen cars, two lamp posts, a mailbox, and had to stomp on a squishy with a cell phone.
Drag Strip had then taken the destruction as a contest and was now doing his best to break Motormaster’s record. Something that Breakdown was now using to get Drag Strip to destroy more things he insisted were watching him. Which in turn annoyed the truck even more. Dead End, true to his word, was ignoring everything. The truck wondered why he couldn’t be a Constructicon. Those guys got along great, even if they were crazy as fuck.
“Not like it matters, but there’s an Autobot in front of us.” - Dead End’s voice took the truck out of his musing.
“What?”
“I knew it! I told you to destroy that bike!” - Cried the white Lamborghini. - “They’re always watching.”
The Kenworth ignored Breakdwon’s outburst. Instead, he watched the Autobot Porsche. He was following someone and the Stunticon leader had the suspicion that he just found the bastard that he was looking for. Unless it suddenly became easier to follow jets in a place full of skyscrapers. It didn‘t matter, he could stay behind until he was sure or he could head on fight the Autobot and risk the chance of loosing Wildrider while he had fun scraping the Porsche.
The grey and purple mech growled, the three cars behind him quieting. If there was one thing he hated, it was having to play nice. And he would have to do that in order to not get the silly Bot’s attention.
“Everyone, stay quiet and follow that Autobot.” - He roared at the three Stunticons behind him. He wasn’t one for subtlety, but he thought he deserved points for trying.
“I’ll be the quietest!”
“Okay. If I’m quiet they won’t look at me, right?”
“Quiet. Loud. Nothing matters in the end, you know.”
Motormaster stifled a sigh. Really, it was in times like this that he hated being leader.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~(Portland‘s streets: Wildrider Edition)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was turning out to be an eventful day. Stomping on the driver and scaring the humans into bringing his shiny driver was fun. Driving to the mayor’s parking lot with her controlling him still made his energon pump work faster. She was hell on the road, even if she kept avoiding running through walls and stuff. Meh, nobody was perfect.
Her talk with the mayor was boring. The only highlight being that the man seemed okay with her talking about killing. That only meant that she will take him to do those patrols of her. The realization almost made him jump on his tires. The only thing that stopped him was the fact that he didn’t want her to know about him yet. Humans had this tendency to run away from them.
The only thing that had made him angry was that Paul that the mayor had talked about. She considered him to be ‘cute’. He had to remember to subspace that file and scan it for an address. He would have to make a visit to the man and kill him. If there was one person she had to find cute it was him, not some fleshy insect.
The group of humans watching her as she went to change clothes had made him furious. Too bad they had done as he said and left. He wouldn’t had minded if they defied him. That would’ve given him an excuse to play ‘how far can you throw the human’. He still wanted to beat Drag Strip to that. Fucker needed to have his ego shot down and killed twice.
They drove aimlessly, and he noticed her driving was a little tamer. She was probably tired. Humans had so little charge in them they needed lots of recharging breaks. At least she didn’t take him to the hotel. He was promised violence and he was going to have it. She seemed pretty adamant in finding some blue organics.
She pushed one of his buttons while unfolding the map. Wildrider was surprised at the sensation. It tickled! He managed to control some very unDecepticon giggles and turned on the lights inside his cab for her to read.
He grinned when she got too distracted and he took control to get her close to the wall, but he moved away from it. She wouldn’t be happy and the last thing he wanted was for her to get another car. He knew that stomping on them would get unwanted attention… No matter how much fun doing it was.
He gave her back control, enjoying the feel of soft fragile fingers on his steering wheel as she took them both to the university. His sensors telling him there was someone behind him, but not really acknowledging the warning. He was too busy wishing for a chance to run over the organics she was planning to kill.