Bah sorry for the delay XP Yes I'll be finishing the September challenge too!
Title: Toccata (In Black and White) - Frozen Shades (01/31)
Day: 01
Prompt: "Frost in the Windshield"
Verse: G1 with some IDW influence.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1040
Other Characters: Human OCs.
Warnings: None I can think of.
Summary: Marie could tell the car was unlike any she’d seen before.
Notes: For the Delightful December challenge @ prowlxjazz. Happy holidays to all in the pxj community! This piece is not beta read so feel free to correct me.
Mrs. Marie Renard was a lady of peculiar tastes and views about life, and even more peculiar acquaintances. She’d served in the police department for a good forty years before she retired to live a peacefully with her family. A widow for the last ten years the woman had taken to enjoy the peace and quiet of the suburbs she lived on and befriended everyone in her neighborhood, young and old, and this included the police officer that patrolled the area...as well as his patrol car.
Mrs. Renard had come to know both the officer and the ‘undercover agent’ he happened to drive around every day and that parked on the lot across from Mrs. Renard’s home. The old lady was a very intuitive woman and could see and understand things that others were too busy with their mundane lives to notice. She saw little things, pieced together seemingly unrelated clues and came to the realization the patrol car was more than what could be appreciated at first sight. Even the officer did not know of his particular partner, and of the fact his partner had a partner of his own that every night came to park beside him to spend a few hours together in the dead of night.
Mrs. Renard could see the minimal things that few others paid attention to. When the officer was back home after a long shift, he parked the police cruiser just outside the garage where the home’s SUV was stored, patting the trusty vehicle’s hood as he made his way inside to enjoy what time he could with his family, the duty and the police car forgotten for the remainder of the day. But when the family slept, another vehicle came from seemingly nowhere to park beside the patrol car in apparent silence for hours until dawn, when the white Porsche left to places unknown.
Mrs. Renard could sympathize with the visiting partner, knowing that sometimes duty got in the way of family and in the way of a healthy relationship. Sometimes even she wondered how she and her late husband had managed to work out a stable relationship despite the difficulties of their demanding careers, but she knew it were the small things what made a difference. Details like the visiting partner that she was all too familiar with. For the people passing by it was just two cars parked together, for Mrs. Renard it were two lovers managing to spend some time together.
The first time she confronted the car in question she did not feel one bit silly for speaking to a car and expecting a response. She did not get one that first time, but she kept on trying every day. Finally, almost a whole month later, when winter began to settle in the town she watched the car from the warmth of her home, the fireplace was lit, warming up the place nicely in the unforgiving cold of the winter. She took notice of the police car left to the cruel temperatures and took pity on her unusual neighbor, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders over her heavy coat and hand-knit mittens she ventured into the cold. As she expected the windshield was completely covered with ice. She took what tools she brought with her and diligently began to remove the frost on the windshield.
With the task done, Mrs. Renard set her tools back into the bucket she used to carry them over and turned around to head back home.
“Thank you.”
The lady stopped on her tracks and turned around to face the car, stunned at first, then smiling a the sound of a male-like voice coming from the parked Datsun. “You’re quite welcome.”
“My name is Prowl. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“I see. It suits you. I’m Marie, pleased to meet you, too.” She patted his roof gently and headed back inside. After that Prowl would respond to her whenever she came to talk to him or greet him. It started with simple answers at first, but soon evolved to full fledged conversations as Prowl no longer limited himself to answer questions when addressed. Soon a friendship was forged.
Mrs. Renard watched every night as Prowl’s Porsche partner drove slowly through the frozen streets to meet him and spend some time with him. The closeness of their forms, the subtle bouncing or shifting of tires and something intangible but that Marie could tell was there were clues for her to realize just how intimate their subtle ‘body’ language was, the loving devotion they seemed to share with each other. It reminded her so much of herself and her late husband and made her treasure the chance to see Prowl and his partner share those few moments together.
Such was the case tonight, when the cold weather was in full force and Marie Renard made her way across the street with her bucket to remove the frost on Prowl’s windshield, extending her service to his partner. When she was done and on her way back to her warm home and looking forward to a mug of cocoa, the Porsche spoke to her for the first time.
“Thank you, ma’am. Name’s Jazz.”
Marie turned around to face him, smiling. “That’s quite a nice name. It goes well with you. Take care of Prowl there, will you?”
“Always do!” Jazz flashed his headlights a couple of times in a cheeky gesture.
“You better do, he’s a good and hardworking one.” Marie smiled at them and headed back inside, sitting next to her window with a mug of cocoa in her hands, watching Prowl and Jazz in their silent reprieve, hoping that soon Prowl could go back home with Jazz even if she knew she’d miss her newfound friends. “Ah, to be young and in love again.” She murmured to herself, looking up to the picture of her late husband resting atop the fireplace. “But we do know what that is like, isn’t it? Until our last breath.”
With a content sigh, Marie watched the pair in silence, wrapping the shawl tighter around her shoulders until she slowly drifted off in contentment, the cold of the night long forgotten as her empty mug slipped off her fingers.
Day: 01
Prompt: "Frost in the Windshield"
Verse: G1 with some IDW influence.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1040
Other Characters: Human OCs.
Warnings: None I can think of.
Summary: Marie could tell the car was unlike any she’d seen before.
Notes: For the Delightful December challenge @ prowlxjazz. Happy holidays to all in the pxj community! This piece is not beta read so feel free to correct me.
Mrs. Marie Renard was a lady of peculiar tastes and views about life, and even more peculiar acquaintances. She’d served in the police department for a good forty years before she retired to live a peacefully with her family. A widow for the last ten years the woman had taken to enjoy the peace and quiet of the suburbs she lived on and befriended everyone in her neighborhood, young and old, and this included the police officer that patrolled the area...as well as his patrol car.
Mrs. Renard had come to know both the officer and the ‘undercover agent’ he happened to drive around every day and that parked on the lot across from Mrs. Renard’s home. The old lady was a very intuitive woman and could see and understand things that others were too busy with their mundane lives to notice. She saw little things, pieced together seemingly unrelated clues and came to the realization the patrol car was more than what could be appreciated at first sight. Even the officer did not know of his particular partner, and of the fact his partner had a partner of his own that every night came to park beside him to spend a few hours together in the dead of night.
Mrs. Renard could see the minimal things that few others paid attention to. When the officer was back home after a long shift, he parked the police cruiser just outside the garage where the home’s SUV was stored, patting the trusty vehicle’s hood as he made his way inside to enjoy what time he could with his family, the duty and the police car forgotten for the remainder of the day. But when the family slept, another vehicle came from seemingly nowhere to park beside the patrol car in apparent silence for hours until dawn, when the white Porsche left to places unknown.
Mrs. Renard could sympathize with the visiting partner, knowing that sometimes duty got in the way of family and in the way of a healthy relationship. Sometimes even she wondered how she and her late husband had managed to work out a stable relationship despite the difficulties of their demanding careers, but she knew it were the small things what made a difference. Details like the visiting partner that she was all too familiar with. For the people passing by it was just two cars parked together, for Mrs. Renard it were two lovers managing to spend some time together.
The first time she confronted the car in question she did not feel one bit silly for speaking to a car and expecting a response. She did not get one that first time, but she kept on trying every day. Finally, almost a whole month later, when winter began to settle in the town she watched the car from the warmth of her home, the fireplace was lit, warming up the place nicely in the unforgiving cold of the winter. She took notice of the police car left to the cruel temperatures and took pity on her unusual neighbor, wrapping a shawl around her shoulders over her heavy coat and hand-knit mittens she ventured into the cold. As she expected the windshield was completely covered with ice. She took what tools she brought with her and diligently began to remove the frost on the windshield.
With the task done, Mrs. Renard set her tools back into the bucket she used to carry them over and turned around to head back home.
“Thank you.”
The lady stopped on her tracks and turned around to face the car, stunned at first, then smiling a the sound of a male-like voice coming from the parked Datsun. “You’re quite welcome.”
“My name is Prowl. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“I see. It suits you. I’m Marie, pleased to meet you, too.” She patted his roof gently and headed back inside. After that Prowl would respond to her whenever she came to talk to him or greet him. It started with simple answers at first, but soon evolved to full fledged conversations as Prowl no longer limited himself to answer questions when addressed. Soon a friendship was forged.
Mrs. Renard watched every night as Prowl’s Porsche partner drove slowly through the frozen streets to meet him and spend some time with him. The closeness of their forms, the subtle bouncing or shifting of tires and something intangible but that Marie could tell was there were clues for her to realize just how intimate their subtle ‘body’ language was, the loving devotion they seemed to share with each other. It reminded her so much of herself and her late husband and made her treasure the chance to see Prowl and his partner share those few moments together.
Such was the case tonight, when the cold weather was in full force and Marie Renard made her way across the street with her bucket to remove the frost on Prowl’s windshield, extending her service to his partner. When she was done and on her way back to her warm home and looking forward to a mug of cocoa, the Porsche spoke to her for the first time.
“Thank you, ma’am. Name’s Jazz.”
Marie turned around to face him, smiling. “That’s quite a nice name. It goes well with you. Take care of Prowl there, will you?”
“Always do!” Jazz flashed his headlights a couple of times in a cheeky gesture.
“You better do, he’s a good and hardworking one.” Marie smiled at them and headed back inside, sitting next to her window with a mug of cocoa in her hands, watching Prowl and Jazz in their silent reprieve, hoping that soon Prowl could go back home with Jazz even if she knew she’d miss her newfound friends. “Ah, to be young and in love again.” She murmured to herself, looking up to the picture of her late husband resting atop the fireplace. “But we do know what that is like, isn’t it? Until our last breath.”
With a content sigh, Marie watched the pair in silence, wrapping the shawl tighter around her shoulders until she slowly drifted off in contentment, the cold of the night long forgotten as her empty mug slipped off her fingers.