I apologize for the upcoming spammage in advance!
Title: Where there is - Home Is Where the Spark Is 3/6
Rating: PG
Warnings: A little bit of angst, some fluff, and me raping characters' personalities.
Pairings: Prowl x Jazz. Sorta hinted Beachcomber x Steeljaw if you squint really, really, reaaaally hard and use the Hubble.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Beachcomber and Steeljaw.
Prompt: For the December Challenge of the ProwlxJazz community: "where there is doubt, faith."
Notes: I should go ahead and mention I cannot write Steeljaw or Beachcomber to save my life. I apologize for the suckage and OOCness I might incur.I really don't like this one, but my brain's giving me nothing else for this prompt. This piece is G1.
Steeljaw trotted his way towards the large, dusty nothingness of the desert, following the trail of a mech he knew well. Jazz rarely left any traces of his presence, even in this organic planet where it was almost impossible not to leave traces when you were a giant alien robot, but there was virtually nothing or no one that Steeljaw could not track down, so he eventually found the saboteur.
Jazz leaned against a rocky formation, using it to shield himself from the afternoon sun, his knees drawn close to his chest, and his head leaning back against the rocks. "I'm fine, 'Jaw," Jazz murmured softly upon feeling the much smaller body of the mechanical lion leaning against his own in a comforting gesture. Steeljaw nuzzled his head against Jazz's leg, accepting the other's words, but offering his comfort anyway.
"I don't like fightin' with him, y'know?" Jazz said softly, powering down his optics as one hand reached to stroke Steeljaw's neck, smiling a little as the cassette purred in response. There were few who Steeljaw would allow to touch him like that, and Jazz was one of those few. Always friendly and in a pet-like manner, not too different from the way Blaster or Beachcomber would.
"It's just... Y'know, we don't always see things the same way an' some times he can be so fraggin' inflexible about some things, but somehow, someway, we always manage t'find that middle point, work things out." Jazz sighed heavily and rested his head on his knees. "I dunno if we can find that middle point on this, though. Call me nostalgic or whatever, but I just don't want ta leave the Ark."
Steeljaw bowed his head in understanding, he knew what Jazz was talking about and what the fight he and Prowl had was about. It was no secret more troops were coming from Cybertron and the situation there was still rather dire, and the Ark was packed to maximum capacity as it was by now. Prowl suggested the creation of a new base, abandon the Ark and establish in a portion of land donated by the local government to the Autobots.
While Jazz knew this was a necessary movement, he was against Prowl's suggestion of tearing down the Ark once the move was completed. Prowl insisted there were tactical reasons behind his decision, and Jazz knew Prowl was right on that account, however, the ship itself had been more than just a space ship for them anymore. It had become a home, a place that saw many things happen among the crew, a place full of memories that Jazz felt was wrong to destroy just like that. But Prowl failed to see the validity of Jazz's arguments against the fate of the Ark.
The tactician could understand the emotional attachment placed on the Ark, on the history and stories that transpired behind the metal walls of the ship, but necessity forced their hand and Prowl always saw the vessel as accommodations. It were not the walls or the objects within the Ark what made the ship become their home, a true home, it were the mechs within what gave it that quality. Wasn't that what Jazz always talked about? That is the people and not the location what make a place feel like home?
So, Prowl was having a really hard time to understand Jazz's attitude, he was confused and unsure how to proceed to try to placate his mate's reluctance to dispose of the Ark in such way.
"Trouble in paradise?" Beachcomber asked, tapping a finger against the wall in the corner of the recreation room where Prowl was sitting, nursing a cube of energon. Prowl quirked an optic ridge at the minibot beaming a knowing smile that somehow felt rather... annoying for the tactician.
"Mind if I sit?" Beachcomber made a move to take a seat but waited for Prowl to nod, taking a seat across the black and white mech, the little knowing smile still plastered over his face. "Steeljaw's with him, he'll be all right."
Prowl nodded again in understanding. He knew Jazz was capable of taking good care of himself and even when he'd need to blow some steam Jazz wouldn't do anything stupid or that could endanger him or someone else. Still, his friends worried naturally and often sought to offer an audio when they felt Jazz needed it. "I assume you're aware of the situation by now?"
"Know a few things, yes," Beachcomber tapped his fingers rhythmically against the table. "Jazz thinks you're being an insensitive slaghead 'cause you wanna tear the good old Ark apart once Autobot City is completed."
Prowl frowned a little, unsure whether the 'slaghead' part was a jab from Beachcomber or what Jazz really thought about him at the moment, and if it was the latter, Prowl couldn't help but feel a little hurt. "I still fail to see why he's so adamantly against it."
Beachcomber nodded, "Ya see, Jazz doesn't always wear the Ops-mech suit. More often than not, he wears his emotions like a suit, and he's got plenty of them."
"I know that. I know Jazz has an emotional attachment with the ship." Prowl narrowed his optics, not in annoyance, but in true confusion. "What I don't understand is why the place has become so significant, when he's the one who says it's those around you what make a place become home, and not the location."
"How long have you been together exactly?" the dune buggie asked suddenly.
"I don't think that question is relevant." Prowl had to double take before he answered.
"Humor me?"
The Datsun vented a heavy sigh but relented. "About ten Earth-years."
Beachcomber nodded. "Not even a quarter of a vorn. Your relationship is young, yet you've been together a lot longer than many. You're set to have a good relationship, but you both still have a lot to learn about each other."
Prowl quirked an optic ridge again. "What does this have to do with the previous topic?"
"It has everything to do, Prowl." The minibot's knowing smile returned, even wider this time. "You're assuming Jazz will always think the same way about things. You are assuming Jazz knows what you know, and he is assuming you should understand why he feels the way he feels."
Prowl thought about the other's words for a moment. Was it possible that Jazz really didn't know Prowl took his own words to his spark, and believed that what made a place feel like home were the mechs around and not the place itself? Did Jazz even feel that way in reality?
"I did not think about that," Prowl admitted. "I just though he would understand leaving the Ark here would be leaving it to the Decepticon's mercy. That... That he would be fine anywhere because the mechs who are his family, would be with him in Autobot City." Prowl paused before adding very softly, almost shyly. "That I would be there with him."
Beachcomber nodded and reached to pat the taller mech's shoulder across the table. "Well, don't go around assuming, Prowl. Let him know."
Prowl nodded and sighed softly. "I didn't mean to assume, I just..."
"I know you didn't want to doubt him. However," Beachcomber's smile softened a little, "There's a difference between having faith and assuming."
"And I fell on the latter." Prowl concluded with a visible droop of his door wings.
"And Jazz is doubting." Beachcomber made a move to get up, casting a quick glance back at Prowl. "He's not far from here, Steeljaw can give you his position. Go talk to him, Prowl."
Prowl nodded and thanked the other mech quietly, leaving the recreation room in search for his mate.
-------------
The sun was beginning to set by the time Prowl reached Jazz's position, finding the Porsche sitting behind the rocks with Steeljaw nestled next to him. The lion perked up as Prowl approached and moved away at a sedated pace, standing a little away from Jazz so Prowl could sit with Jazz in the warmer ground.
"Hey," Prowl said tentatively as he approached, unsure whether or not to take the seat next to Jazz that Steeljaw just vacated.
"Hey yourself," Jazz murmured back, quirking a little, hesitant smile. It was evident Jazz had been doing some thinking of his own, and Prowl was not sure what direction his mate's thoughts had taken. "S'fine, you can sit down." Jazz patted the ground next to him and Prowl nodded his thanks, carefully lowering himself to the dusty soil. They remained in a somewhat tense silence for a while before Prowl finally spoke. "I just came to say I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, too," Jazz replied and looked back to the Datsun. "I know yer tryin' to do what's best, it's just... I'm afraid, Prowl."
"Afraid of what?" the tactician wrapped an arm around Jazz's shoulder's, pulling him a little against him.
"About the way things are going. About this war," Jazz sighed heavily but accepted Prowl's comfort, leaning against him and extending his legs a little so he'd be more comfortable. "Things aren't looking well on Cybertron, more bots are comin' here, now we're gonna lose the Ark. Are we goin' t'lose every place we call home? We had t'leave Cybertron behind, now we're leavin' the Ark behind, as well. Every place I have come to call home is being taken away from me. We goin' t'lose Earth, too?"
Prowl said nothing for a while, thinking things over and over in his CPU. In a war as long as this one had been there were times when doubt lurked about constantly. When everyone second guessed. Even Prime himself had had his moments when he was doubtful of his own decisions, of his own chances to lead the Autobots to a victory and bring peace back to Cybertron, and hopefully maintain such in Earth. "Remember once you said, it was not the place but the people what made a home?"
"Yeah." Jazz looked up to Prowl, looking a little surprised that Prowl seemed to remember that comment. "I know I'll feel Autobot City or any other place as my home as long as yer there with me."
Prowl nodded, holding Jazz closer. "We're going to win this, Jazz. One way or another, we'll win." He said with a certainty that left no room for doubts. "Because this planet, this place that is now our home --a true home, is full of people, humans and 'bots alike, that will give everything to protect it, and protect each other."
Prowl turned to look down at Jazz. "Please, have faith in me. In us."
Jazz smiled a little and nodded. "Mech, yer the one for whom I'll put all a' my eggs in the basket."
Prowl gave Jazz a funny look. "What eggs?"
"Local expression, babe," Jazz laughed, nudging Prowl's side with his elbow. "Means that I have faith in ya. Faith in us all. You are right, we're gonna win this, an' Primus help whoever tries ta get in t'way."
Steeljaw approached the pair and nonchalantly nudged his way to flop himself across both of their laps, resting his head on his paws and giving Prowl a look, daring him to make him leave his comfortable pillow of a Datsun lap. Jazz laughed happily, and patted Steeljaw across his back, grinning at his mate who smiled back at him amused by the lion's impertinence.
It were moments like these that reinforced Jazz's faith. Because surrounded by mechs like these, and the sense of family that the Autobots had become, there as no doubt in his mind, things would turn out for the better in the end.
Rating: PG
Warnings: A little bit of angst, some fluff, and me raping characters' personalities.
Pairings: Prowl x Jazz. Sorta hinted Beachcomber x Steeljaw if you squint really, really, reaaaally hard and use the Hubble.
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, Beachcomber and Steeljaw.
Prompt: For the December Challenge of the ProwlxJazz community: "where there is doubt, faith."
Notes: I should go ahead and mention I cannot write Steeljaw or Beachcomber to save my life. I apologize for the suckage and OOCness I might incur.I really don't like this one, but my brain's giving me nothing else for this prompt. This piece is G1.
Steeljaw trotted his way towards the large, dusty nothingness of the desert, following the trail of a mech he knew well. Jazz rarely left any traces of his presence, even in this organic planet where it was almost impossible not to leave traces when you were a giant alien robot, but there was virtually nothing or no one that Steeljaw could not track down, so he eventually found the saboteur.
Jazz leaned against a rocky formation, using it to shield himself from the afternoon sun, his knees drawn close to his chest, and his head leaning back against the rocks. "I'm fine, 'Jaw," Jazz murmured softly upon feeling the much smaller body of the mechanical lion leaning against his own in a comforting gesture. Steeljaw nuzzled his head against Jazz's leg, accepting the other's words, but offering his comfort anyway.
"I don't like fightin' with him, y'know?" Jazz said softly, powering down his optics as one hand reached to stroke Steeljaw's neck, smiling a little as the cassette purred in response. There were few who Steeljaw would allow to touch him like that, and Jazz was one of those few. Always friendly and in a pet-like manner, not too different from the way Blaster or Beachcomber would.
"It's just... Y'know, we don't always see things the same way an' some times he can be so fraggin' inflexible about some things, but somehow, someway, we always manage t'find that middle point, work things out." Jazz sighed heavily and rested his head on his knees. "I dunno if we can find that middle point on this, though. Call me nostalgic or whatever, but I just don't want ta leave the Ark."
Steeljaw bowed his head in understanding, he knew what Jazz was talking about and what the fight he and Prowl had was about. It was no secret more troops were coming from Cybertron and the situation there was still rather dire, and the Ark was packed to maximum capacity as it was by now. Prowl suggested the creation of a new base, abandon the Ark and establish in a portion of land donated by the local government to the Autobots.
While Jazz knew this was a necessary movement, he was against Prowl's suggestion of tearing down the Ark once the move was completed. Prowl insisted there were tactical reasons behind his decision, and Jazz knew Prowl was right on that account, however, the ship itself had been more than just a space ship for them anymore. It had become a home, a place that saw many things happen among the crew, a place full of memories that Jazz felt was wrong to destroy just like that. But Prowl failed to see the validity of Jazz's arguments against the fate of the Ark.
The tactician could understand the emotional attachment placed on the Ark, on the history and stories that transpired behind the metal walls of the ship, but necessity forced their hand and Prowl always saw the vessel as accommodations. It were not the walls or the objects within the Ark what made the ship become their home, a true home, it were the mechs within what gave it that quality. Wasn't that what Jazz always talked about? That is the people and not the location what make a place feel like home?
So, Prowl was having a really hard time to understand Jazz's attitude, he was confused and unsure how to proceed to try to placate his mate's reluctance to dispose of the Ark in such way.
"Trouble in paradise?" Beachcomber asked, tapping a finger against the wall in the corner of the recreation room where Prowl was sitting, nursing a cube of energon. Prowl quirked an optic ridge at the minibot beaming a knowing smile that somehow felt rather... annoying for the tactician.
"Mind if I sit?" Beachcomber made a move to take a seat but waited for Prowl to nod, taking a seat across the black and white mech, the little knowing smile still plastered over his face. "Steeljaw's with him, he'll be all right."
Prowl nodded again in understanding. He knew Jazz was capable of taking good care of himself and even when he'd need to blow some steam Jazz wouldn't do anything stupid or that could endanger him or someone else. Still, his friends worried naturally and often sought to offer an audio when they felt Jazz needed it. "I assume you're aware of the situation by now?"
"Know a few things, yes," Beachcomber tapped his fingers rhythmically against the table. "Jazz thinks you're being an insensitive slaghead 'cause you wanna tear the good old Ark apart once Autobot City is completed."
Prowl frowned a little, unsure whether the 'slaghead' part was a jab from Beachcomber or what Jazz really thought about him at the moment, and if it was the latter, Prowl couldn't help but feel a little hurt. "I still fail to see why he's so adamantly against it."
Beachcomber nodded, "Ya see, Jazz doesn't always wear the Ops-mech suit. More often than not, he wears his emotions like a suit, and he's got plenty of them."
"I know that. I know Jazz has an emotional attachment with the ship." Prowl narrowed his optics, not in annoyance, but in true confusion. "What I don't understand is why the place has become so significant, when he's the one who says it's those around you what make a place become home, and not the location."
"How long have you been together exactly?" the dune buggie asked suddenly.
"I don't think that question is relevant." Prowl had to double take before he answered.
"Humor me?"
The Datsun vented a heavy sigh but relented. "About ten Earth-years."
Beachcomber nodded. "Not even a quarter of a vorn. Your relationship is young, yet you've been together a lot longer than many. You're set to have a good relationship, but you both still have a lot to learn about each other."
Prowl quirked an optic ridge again. "What does this have to do with the previous topic?"
"It has everything to do, Prowl." The minibot's knowing smile returned, even wider this time. "You're assuming Jazz will always think the same way about things. You are assuming Jazz knows what you know, and he is assuming you should understand why he feels the way he feels."
Prowl thought about the other's words for a moment. Was it possible that Jazz really didn't know Prowl took his own words to his spark, and believed that what made a place feel like home were the mechs around and not the place itself? Did Jazz even feel that way in reality?
"I did not think about that," Prowl admitted. "I just though he would understand leaving the Ark here would be leaving it to the Decepticon's mercy. That... That he would be fine anywhere because the mechs who are his family, would be with him in Autobot City." Prowl paused before adding very softly, almost shyly. "That I would be there with him."
Beachcomber nodded and reached to pat the taller mech's shoulder across the table. "Well, don't go around assuming, Prowl. Let him know."
Prowl nodded and sighed softly. "I didn't mean to assume, I just..."
"I know you didn't want to doubt him. However," Beachcomber's smile softened a little, "There's a difference between having faith and assuming."
"And I fell on the latter." Prowl concluded with a visible droop of his door wings.
"And Jazz is doubting." Beachcomber made a move to get up, casting a quick glance back at Prowl. "He's not far from here, Steeljaw can give you his position. Go talk to him, Prowl."
Prowl nodded and thanked the other mech quietly, leaving the recreation room in search for his mate.
-------------
The sun was beginning to set by the time Prowl reached Jazz's position, finding the Porsche sitting behind the rocks with Steeljaw nestled next to him. The lion perked up as Prowl approached and moved away at a sedated pace, standing a little away from Jazz so Prowl could sit with Jazz in the warmer ground.
"Hey," Prowl said tentatively as he approached, unsure whether or not to take the seat next to Jazz that Steeljaw just vacated.
"Hey yourself," Jazz murmured back, quirking a little, hesitant smile. It was evident Jazz had been doing some thinking of his own, and Prowl was not sure what direction his mate's thoughts had taken. "S'fine, you can sit down." Jazz patted the ground next to him and Prowl nodded his thanks, carefully lowering himself to the dusty soil. They remained in a somewhat tense silence for a while before Prowl finally spoke. "I just came to say I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry, too," Jazz replied and looked back to the Datsun. "I know yer tryin' to do what's best, it's just... I'm afraid, Prowl."
"Afraid of what?" the tactician wrapped an arm around Jazz's shoulder's, pulling him a little against him.
"About the way things are going. About this war," Jazz sighed heavily but accepted Prowl's comfort, leaning against him and extending his legs a little so he'd be more comfortable. "Things aren't looking well on Cybertron, more bots are comin' here, now we're gonna lose the Ark. Are we goin' t'lose every place we call home? We had t'leave Cybertron behind, now we're leavin' the Ark behind, as well. Every place I have come to call home is being taken away from me. We goin' t'lose Earth, too?"
Prowl said nothing for a while, thinking things over and over in his CPU. In a war as long as this one had been there were times when doubt lurked about constantly. When everyone second guessed. Even Prime himself had had his moments when he was doubtful of his own decisions, of his own chances to lead the Autobots to a victory and bring peace back to Cybertron, and hopefully maintain such in Earth. "Remember once you said, it was not the place but the people what made a home?"
"Yeah." Jazz looked up to Prowl, looking a little surprised that Prowl seemed to remember that comment. "I know I'll feel Autobot City or any other place as my home as long as yer there with me."
Prowl nodded, holding Jazz closer. "We're going to win this, Jazz. One way or another, we'll win." He said with a certainty that left no room for doubts. "Because this planet, this place that is now our home --a true home, is full of people, humans and 'bots alike, that will give everything to protect it, and protect each other."
Prowl turned to look down at Jazz. "Please, have faith in me. In us."
Jazz smiled a little and nodded. "Mech, yer the one for whom I'll put all a' my eggs in the basket."
Prowl gave Jazz a funny look. "What eggs?"
"Local expression, babe," Jazz laughed, nudging Prowl's side with his elbow. "Means that I have faith in ya. Faith in us all. You are right, we're gonna win this, an' Primus help whoever tries ta get in t'way."
Steeljaw approached the pair and nonchalantly nudged his way to flop himself across both of their laps, resting his head on his paws and giving Prowl a look, daring him to make him leave his comfortable pillow of a Datsun lap. Jazz laughed happily, and patted Steeljaw across his back, grinning at his mate who smiled back at him amused by the lion's impertinence.
It were moments like these that reinforced Jazz's faith. Because surrounded by mechs like these, and the sense of family that the Autobots had become, there as no doubt in his mind, things would turn out for the better in the end.