I'm never writing fic like this again. :| This icon has never been more appropriated
Title: Sure Know Something. (01/01)
General Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mild cussing. Crack up the wazoo. KISS.
Pairing: No pairings!
Words: 2846
Setting: G1 Sometime after 1996
Prompt: For the flesh_and_steel challenge. Beach party threesome.
Summary: Road trips with your band members can lead to all kinds of adventures and meeting some really special people. Or robots from outer space.
Notes: I still cannot believe I wrote this. cazcatharsis egged me into it and then bribed me for it and insisted on Paul and Gene and Prowl. Blame her. The characterizations are based on KISSteria and the Second Coming DVD. Since this is a fic that involves KISS, you totally need appropriate versions that play in a couple of scenes:
&
This fic is not beta read yet, antepathy and wicked3659 are gonna get tortured with this beast and I'll update it then.
“This is the last time I let you navigate, Gene.” A man muttered as he looked around for any signs to determinate their current position. “We’re so lost.”
“Hey, they were waving at me. I couldn’t just ignore them.” Another long haired man replied with a shrug while he adjusted his baseball cap. “It wasn’t my idea to do that u-turn, you know?”
“The thing is we are lost somewhere in Portland.” The driver tapped his fingers against the wheel in a nervous gesture. “We have to be tomorrow at the Radio Station for the interview and an unplugged segment, and the phone is out of battery so we can’t call Doc for back up.”
“I told you we should have gone on the bus, but you wanted to road trip, man.” A third man pipped from the back seats, his voice was partly muffled by the towel decorated with Boots the Monkey printing covering his face.
The driver, Paul, looked over his shoulder with what could only be described as a very visible pout. “How was I supposed to know Gene would get us lost?”
“Why do you keep blaming me? This was your idea.” Gene reached for the bottle of water under his seat and looked over his shoulder at the back seat of the large vehicle. “Is Peter still breathing back there, Ace?”
“You’re kidding? He’s snoring.” The third man pulled the towel off his face and sat up, leveling a mildly annoyed glance at his seat partner who was deeply asleep, and snoring faintly.
“I’m all for road trips, Paul, but I think we should have at least brought a chaufer. Or someone that knew how to get us to the hotel and the station.” Ace offered his input as he watched Peter turn around on the seat and continue to sleep undisturbed, almost envying the older man for being able to sleep through the ongoing disaster.
“Shit!” Gene slapped a hand to his forehead. “Um...Paul, you did get the reservations, right?”
After a short moment of silence, Paul gave Gene a look that said it all. “If I ever suggest a road trip again without Doc, please hit me hard.”
“Ok, let’s review,” Ace sat straighter and brought a hand up, folding his fingers as he spoke. “We’re not sure where in Portland we are nor how to get where we are supposed to get to. We don’t have hotel reservations. Guys, we sound like the plot of one of those B-movies.”
“If you bring up the phantom one more time...”
“Just grab some change, pick up a phone and call Doc. And find a police officer and ask for directions.” Peter said without bothering to open his eyes.
Gene sighed and dug into his jacket’s pocket. “Ok, wait here while I go find us an officer.”
“No, you go talk to Doc and I will find the officer.” Paul was already out of the car before anyone could even get a word in.
Gene watched Paul go and then turned to look at his band mates. “While I go, you guys need anything? And no Jack Daniels.”
“Soda.” Was spoken at unison.
---------------------
“A road trip will be great, guys. Excellent time to bond together and spark the magic once again.” Paul muttered as he crossed the streets, looking for street names and a police officer. “What was I thinking?”
He stopped when he spotted a black and white police car, too relieved at the moment to notice the interceptor was quite a bit out of place. “Oh, thank goodness!”
When Paul approached the parked vehicle he deflated a little, noticing it was empty, while at the same time finally taking notice this police car was too sporty to be standard local enforcement. “Just my luck. When you need a cop you can never find one.”
“Is there a problem I can help you with?”
Paul almost jumped at the sound of the disembodied voice and the faint vibration of the sound against the metal. “What the...”
“I apologize if I’ve started you, citizen. You seemed to require assistance.”
Paul Stanley had heard of many weird things during his life time, and he vaguely remembered hearing about some giant robots from outer space, but he never paid much attention to that. Perhaps he should have. “Uhm...yes, me and my friends are a little lost.”
Paul could probably said he’d seen it all now, but he knew life loved throwing surprises when least expected so he’d rather stray clear of saying that.
“Where are you trying to go to?”
“There’s a radio station we have to be at tomorrow.” Paul gave out the name of the station and where in Portland it was supposed to be.
“It would appear you’re quite a bit away from your destination still. If you wish I can escort you to the location.”
“That’d be cool, thanks. Need to talk to my friends and find out if we could get any hotel reservations. We’re just across the street.” Paul pointed in the direction of their vehicle and couldn’t say he felt silly for speaking to a car and pointing out directions to it. He’d done weirder things in his life like posing with nude models and a can of WD-40 that sneaked into one of the shots somewhow.
“Very well then.” With a soft rumble, the engine started and the car drove itself around the street in direction to the band’s vehicle.
“Man...I want one of those.” Paul whistled and rushed to get back to his band mates.
“Hey guys! You won’t believe this. I found us an escort that’s gonna take us to the station.” Paul’s head popped through the open window. “Do we have a reservation yet?”
Gene nodded and sipped from a cold can of soda. “Doc asked me to relay a message to you. ‘If you fucking do shit like this again, I’m not saving your asses.’ End of message.”
Paul rolled his eyes. “Fiiiiiine. Next time we go on the bus and play poker all trip-long.”
“That’s perfectly cool with me.” Peter offered, flipping through the pages of a magazine. “Where’s the escort?”
Paul pointed at the black and white sporty police car that stopped right ahead of them, flicking the tail lights twice. “What’s the hotel we’re staying at?”
Before long, the band was following the police car while Paul informed them of the peculiarity of their escort. Gene was convinced Paul was just suffering from some kind of hallucination, while Peter and Ace joked that Paul should not drink while driving.
“I tell you guys, that’s gotta be one of those Autobots I heard about in the news.” Paul insisted while he followed the police car through the highway.
“C’mon Paul, be realistic. You think one of those super advanced robots would be wasting his precious time colluding with humans?”
“We are.” Peter piped with a sing-song tone.
“We’re Rock stars, not high tech from outer space.” Gene frowned over his sunglasses.
“It would be cool if it really was an Autobot though.” Ace leaned over the back seat, idly playing with the rings that decorated is right hand. “I’ve always been a fan of that kind of stuff.”
The trip continued for a couple more hours until they reached their destination. The hotel was fancy but also in a discrete enough location to slip in without rising too much ruckus from their adoring fans. Their manager, Doc McGhee had arranged for a couple of members of their security team to fly there and meet them at the hotel for their scheduled appointments next day.
“This is it, boys.” Paul announced as they parked on the underground parking lot of the hotel. “Let’s check in, get a shower and call Doc to let him know we made it.” Paul climbed down their vehicle, heading towards the police car that had escorted them there safely. Gene, Peter and Ace followed shortly after.
“Hey man, thanks for your help.” Paul patted the hood of the driver’s seat.
Only then, the other members of the band noticed that their escort had no driver.
“You’re most welcome. I hope your endeavors here go smoothly and have a safe return home.”
“Holy shit...” Gene pushed Paul aside a little and tried to look inside further. “You really are one of those robots! I thought Paul was talking shit.”
“My name is Prowl, sir.”
Peter tilted his head, tapping a finger to his chin deep in thought. “I swear I’ve heard that voice before.”
“Nah,” Ace also pushed his way to get a closer look at the fascinating self-driving car from outer space.
With the tables turned somewhat, the fascinated band members finally bid their farewell to their helpful alien escort, leaving for their hotel rooms.
Prowl began to drive away, intent in returning to the Ark after his good deed of the day deviated him from his schedule. He’d been in the area in an official capacity, running an assignment from Optimus Prime and the town mayor and had just finished that job moments before Paul Stanley approached him for help. He had informed Blaster he would be running late to help a couple of lost humans.
On his way back home he stopped by one of Oregon’s many beaches where he transformed and sat close to some rocky formations. He wasn’t much of a nature lover, but he enjoyed the peace and calm a beach at night offered and every now and then he would sit down and just enjoy the view, allowing the sounds of the sea to relax him and ease his processor that worked non-stop. It brought him a few moments of peace to his busy life.
//Hey man.//
That could be short lived when Jazz decided he wanted to keep tabs on the mechs on the field. Still, Prowl smiled a little, as if he knew something the other did not.
//Hello, Jazz.//
//Ya comin’ home soon? The mayor’s assistant called an’ gave ya the wrong files.//
//He did? I’ll turn and head back then. Although, it’s quite late by now, I don’t think I can reach them before it’s time for them to head home themselves.//
//Blaster’ll call t’let them know ya’ll be waitin’ for ‘em at the town hall tomorrow mornin’. That ok with you?//
//Yes, of course.//
//Alright.// there was a brief pause before Jazz spoke again. //Oh, Carly found me that CD I’ve been lookin’ for. These guys got some really sweet tunes.//
Prowl smiled at that, standing up head back into the road. //That’s great, Jazz. I happened to meet some musicians today, too.//
//Really? Y’gonna have to tell me more when yer back, man! //
//I will.// Prowl transformed back to his alt mode and began the drive back to the city.
The following day Prowl was given the correct files and prepared to head back to the Ark. It was a busy day on the roads and he took a few deviations here and there that led him close to the area where that band would be playing. He knew who they were and he also knew a couple of his crew mates were self proclaimed fans of the band, which for some reason prompted him to turn on his own radio to tap into the signal of the station.
“It’s been great and after the long road trip we went through to get here, I have to say it was worth it. You people make it all very special for us.” That was Paul talking over the random plucking of bass strings that could be heard close to him.
“As a matter of fact, we might have not made it here without the help of a...foreign citizen that helped us out in our time of need. So this is a shout out to him. Thanks man, we owe you.” That was Gene who stopped plucking at his bass’ strings long enough to speak.
“But now it’s time to go back home.” Peter’s drumsticks clicked together several times before the chords of a melody were played by the band members.
“It's been a month or two since I was sleepin' with you. I'm comin' home again. I've been to east and west, but baby I like best the road that leads to you.”
Prowl’s musical tastes weren’t as wide and varied as Jazz’s or Blaster’s or even Bluestreak’s, but he would easily admit to enjoying the acoustic feel of the melody and carried on with his own trip back home as the music played on.
As the minutes turned to hours, he spotted a familiar vehicle between by two smaller cars one leading and the other tailing behind the vehicle. They were parked next to the road and Prowl couln’t help but stop where they had, wondering if the band was in need of assistance once more.
This time, though he didn’t bother staying on his alt mode and transformed, carefully making his way to the trio of vehicles. “Is everything okay?”
The band’s security all jumped back in shock, too startled by the sight to react to potential danger to their charges.
“Nah, it’s cool. We were just stopping for a quick dip and a snack.” Gene waved a hand at their security, letting them see the stranger was not a thread. “Fancy seeing you here, man.”
“I was on my way back home myself. Just stopped to see if you required assistance again.”
“It’s good that we got to see you again. We owe you one, so if there’s anything we can do for you just ask.” Paul patted Prowl’s leg with a towel around his neck and a can of soda on the other.
Prowl was about to thank the band and say good bye but then remembered something. “Actually, there might be something. A couple of friends of mine are your fans and I’m sure they’d appreciate if you could autograph something for them.”
Gene arched an eyebrow and drummed his fingers against his chin. “I think we can do something even better.”
“Better?” Prowl asked and tilted his head.
“Yep. Come -Prowl right?- let’s have a talk.” Gene patted Prowl’s other leg and gestured the Autobot to follow him further into the beach.
Peter watched them go and turned to look at Ace. “I insist I’ve heard his voice somewhere before.”
“Give it up, man.” Ace shrugged and took a long gulp of his cold soda can, wrapped up with what appeared to be Gene's unmentionables.
----------------
Later that day, Prowl returned to the Ark, delivering the important files to Optimus and debriefing him about the meeting he had with the mayor. After that he made an unusual request to Optimus to permit him to take out any non-essential member of the crew that could be spared, citing that it would be good for the crew’s morale.
Optimus had been surprised, as that was the kind of request he’d expect from Jazz or Blaster but rarely from Prowl. Prime agreed on the condition the mechs would be able the next day, and Prowl assured they would all be alright.
As the sun began to set, Prowl led a convoy of Autobots towards a beach not far too far away from the Ark. The sight that awaited for them there was a bonfire with four humans sitting close by.
“What is this?” Blaster asked as he transformed after Tracks opened his passenger door and Bumblebee pulled him out.
“Gentlemech, allow me to introduce to you to Mr. Paul Stanley, Gene Simmons, Ace Frehley and Peter Criss. I believe a few of you have heard about the band Kiss?”
“No way!” Blaster and Jazz gasped at unison, smiling wide.
“If would please sit around, we’ll try our best to entertain you.” Paul smiled and gestured around the beach which soon became littered with Autobots.
The band played unplugged for their captivated alien audience and Jazz couldn’t help but edge closer to Prowl to whisper. “Man, I don’t know how you managed this.”
“A chain of particular events and some luck.” Prowl shrugged. “If you brought your record with you, they’ll sign it as well.”
Jazz grinned at his friend but then scowled a little. “Ya didn’t make a deal with th’devil, did ya?”
“No.I made a deal with the demon.” Prowl deadpanned, much to Jazz’s amusement and mild concern as they settled to enjoy the rest of their private performance.
“C’mon guys! Sing this one with us!” Paul waved his hands, egging on their audience as they began to play one more song.
“You show us everything you've got. You keep on dancin' and the room gets hot. You drive us wild, we´ll drive you crazy!“
It took no further encouragement for the Autobots present to sing along, clapping and swaying to the rhythm of the antheming melody, chanting a carefree desire to Rock n Roll al night and party every day.
Prowl did not sing along, but smiled as his comrades did and enjoyed themselves, even the likes of Mirage and Ratchet were sucked into cheerful feel of the music and at least for one night they could all hope for a future full of Rock and Roll, although he certainly hoped not full of parties every day.
--------
Notes x 2: Peter Criss keeps insisting he's heard Prowl's voice because Michael Bell did the voice over work for Peter Criss in the Kiss meets the Panthom of the Park film. >>;; /geek
Notes x 3: Route will be fixed in the upcoming days, brains fried from studying and being non-american!
General Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mild cussing. Crack up the wazoo. KISS.
Pairing: No pairings!
Words: 2846
Setting: G1 Sometime after 1996
Prompt: For the flesh_and_steel challenge. Beach party threesome.
Summary: Road trips with your band members can lead to all kinds of adventures and meeting some really special people. Or robots from outer space.
Notes: I still cannot believe I wrote this. cazcatharsis egged me into it and then bribed me for it and insisted on Paul and Gene and Prowl. Blame her. The characterizations are based on KISSteria and the Second Coming DVD. Since this is a fic that involves KISS, you totally need appropriate versions that play in a couple of scenes:
&
This fic is not beta read yet, antepathy and wicked3659 are gonna get tortured with this beast and I'll update it then.
“This is the last time I let you navigate, Gene.” A man muttered as he looked around for any signs to determinate their current position. “We’re so lost.”
“Hey, they were waving at me. I couldn’t just ignore them.” Another long haired man replied with a shrug while he adjusted his baseball cap. “It wasn’t my idea to do that u-turn, you know?”
“The thing is we are lost somewhere in Portland.” The driver tapped his fingers against the wheel in a nervous gesture. “We have to be tomorrow at the Radio Station for the interview and an unplugged segment, and the phone is out of battery so we can’t call Doc for back up.”
“I told you we should have gone on the bus, but you wanted to road trip, man.” A third man pipped from the back seats, his voice was partly muffled by the towel decorated with Boots the Monkey printing covering his face.
The driver, Paul, looked over his shoulder with what could only be described as a very visible pout. “How was I supposed to know Gene would get us lost?”
“Why do you keep blaming me? This was your idea.” Gene reached for the bottle of water under his seat and looked over his shoulder at the back seat of the large vehicle. “Is Peter still breathing back there, Ace?”
“You’re kidding? He’s snoring.” The third man pulled the towel off his face and sat up, leveling a mildly annoyed glance at his seat partner who was deeply asleep, and snoring faintly.
“I’m all for road trips, Paul, but I think we should have at least brought a chaufer. Or someone that knew how to get us to the hotel and the station.” Ace offered his input as he watched Peter turn around on the seat and continue to sleep undisturbed, almost envying the older man for being able to sleep through the ongoing disaster.
“Shit!” Gene slapped a hand to his forehead. “Um...Paul, you did get the reservations, right?”
After a short moment of silence, Paul gave Gene a look that said it all. “If I ever suggest a road trip again without Doc, please hit me hard.”
“Ok, let’s review,” Ace sat straighter and brought a hand up, folding his fingers as he spoke. “We’re not sure where in Portland we are nor how to get where we are supposed to get to. We don’t have hotel reservations. Guys, we sound like the plot of one of those B-movies.”
“If you bring up the phantom one more time...”
“Just grab some change, pick up a phone and call Doc. And find a police officer and ask for directions.” Peter said without bothering to open his eyes.
Gene sighed and dug into his jacket’s pocket. “Ok, wait here while I go find us an officer.”
“No, you go talk to Doc and I will find the officer.” Paul was already out of the car before anyone could even get a word in.
Gene watched Paul go and then turned to look at his band mates. “While I go, you guys need anything? And no Jack Daniels.”
“Soda.” Was spoken at unison.
---------------------
“A road trip will be great, guys. Excellent time to bond together and spark the magic once again.” Paul muttered as he crossed the streets, looking for street names and a police officer. “What was I thinking?”
He stopped when he spotted a black and white police car, too relieved at the moment to notice the interceptor was quite a bit out of place. “Oh, thank goodness!”
When Paul approached the parked vehicle he deflated a little, noticing it was empty, while at the same time finally taking notice this police car was too sporty to be standard local enforcement. “Just my luck. When you need a cop you can never find one.”
“Is there a problem I can help you with?”
Paul almost jumped at the sound of the disembodied voice and the faint vibration of the sound against the metal. “What the...”
“I apologize if I’ve started you, citizen. You seemed to require assistance.”
Paul Stanley had heard of many weird things during his life time, and he vaguely remembered hearing about some giant robots from outer space, but he never paid much attention to that. Perhaps he should have. “Uhm...yes, me and my friends are a little lost.”
Paul could probably said he’d seen it all now, but he knew life loved throwing surprises when least expected so he’d rather stray clear of saying that.
“Where are you trying to go to?”
“There’s a radio station we have to be at tomorrow.” Paul gave out the name of the station and where in Portland it was supposed to be.
“It would appear you’re quite a bit away from your destination still. If you wish I can escort you to the location.”
“That’d be cool, thanks. Need to talk to my friends and find out if we could get any hotel reservations. We’re just across the street.” Paul pointed in the direction of their vehicle and couldn’t say he felt silly for speaking to a car and pointing out directions to it. He’d done weirder things in his life like posing with nude models and a can of WD-40 that sneaked into one of the shots somewhow.
“Very well then.” With a soft rumble, the engine started and the car drove itself around the street in direction to the band’s vehicle.
“Man...I want one of those.” Paul whistled and rushed to get back to his band mates.
“Hey guys! You won’t believe this. I found us an escort that’s gonna take us to the station.” Paul’s head popped through the open window. “Do we have a reservation yet?”
Gene nodded and sipped from a cold can of soda. “Doc asked me to relay a message to you. ‘If you fucking do shit like this again, I’m not saving your asses.’ End of message.”
Paul rolled his eyes. “Fiiiiiine. Next time we go on the bus and play poker all trip-long.”
“That’s perfectly cool with me.” Peter offered, flipping through the pages of a magazine. “Where’s the escort?”
Paul pointed at the black and white sporty police car that stopped right ahead of them, flicking the tail lights twice. “What’s the hotel we’re staying at?”
Before long, the band was following the police car while Paul informed them of the peculiarity of their escort. Gene was convinced Paul was just suffering from some kind of hallucination, while Peter and Ace joked that Paul should not drink while driving.
“I tell you guys, that’s gotta be one of those Autobots I heard about in the news.” Paul insisted while he followed the police car through the highway.
“C’mon Paul, be realistic. You think one of those super advanced robots would be wasting his precious time colluding with humans?”
“We are.” Peter piped with a sing-song tone.
“We’re Rock stars, not high tech from outer space.” Gene frowned over his sunglasses.
“It would be cool if it really was an Autobot though.” Ace leaned over the back seat, idly playing with the rings that decorated is right hand. “I’ve always been a fan of that kind of stuff.”
The trip continued for a couple more hours until they reached their destination. The hotel was fancy but also in a discrete enough location to slip in without rising too much ruckus from their adoring fans. Their manager, Doc McGhee had arranged for a couple of members of their security team to fly there and meet them at the hotel for their scheduled appointments next day.
“This is it, boys.” Paul announced as they parked on the underground parking lot of the hotel. “Let’s check in, get a shower and call Doc to let him know we made it.” Paul climbed down their vehicle, heading towards the police car that had escorted them there safely. Gene, Peter and Ace followed shortly after.
“Hey man, thanks for your help.” Paul patted the hood of the driver’s seat.
Only then, the other members of the band noticed that their escort had no driver.
“You’re most welcome. I hope your endeavors here go smoothly and have a safe return home.”
“Holy shit...” Gene pushed Paul aside a little and tried to look inside further. “You really are one of those robots! I thought Paul was talking shit.”
“My name is Prowl, sir.”
Peter tilted his head, tapping a finger to his chin deep in thought. “I swear I’ve heard that voice before.”
“Nah,” Ace also pushed his way to get a closer look at the fascinating self-driving car from outer space.
With the tables turned somewhat, the fascinated band members finally bid their farewell to their helpful alien escort, leaving for their hotel rooms.
Prowl began to drive away, intent in returning to the Ark after his good deed of the day deviated him from his schedule. He’d been in the area in an official capacity, running an assignment from Optimus Prime and the town mayor and had just finished that job moments before Paul Stanley approached him for help. He had informed Blaster he would be running late to help a couple of lost humans.
On his way back home he stopped by one of Oregon’s many beaches where he transformed and sat close to some rocky formations. He wasn’t much of a nature lover, but he enjoyed the peace and calm a beach at night offered and every now and then he would sit down and just enjoy the view, allowing the sounds of the sea to relax him and ease his processor that worked non-stop. It brought him a few moments of peace to his busy life.
//Hey man.//
That could be short lived when Jazz decided he wanted to keep tabs on the mechs on the field. Still, Prowl smiled a little, as if he knew something the other did not.
//Hello, Jazz.//
//Ya comin’ home soon? The mayor’s assistant called an’ gave ya the wrong files.//
//He did? I’ll turn and head back then. Although, it’s quite late by now, I don’t think I can reach them before it’s time for them to head home themselves.//
//Blaster’ll call t’let them know ya’ll be waitin’ for ‘em at the town hall tomorrow mornin’. That ok with you?//
//Yes, of course.//
//Alright.// there was a brief pause before Jazz spoke again. //Oh, Carly found me that CD I’ve been lookin’ for. These guys got some really sweet tunes.//
Prowl smiled at that, standing up head back into the road. //That’s great, Jazz. I happened to meet some musicians today, too.//
//Really? Y’gonna have to tell me more when yer back, man! //
//I will.// Prowl transformed back to his alt mode and began the drive back to the city.
The following day Prowl was given the correct files and prepared to head back to the Ark. It was a busy day on the roads and he took a few deviations here and there that led him close to the area where that band would be playing. He knew who they were and he also knew a couple of his crew mates were self proclaimed fans of the band, which for some reason prompted him to turn on his own radio to tap into the signal of the station.
“It’s been great and after the long road trip we went through to get here, I have to say it was worth it. You people make it all very special for us.” That was Paul talking over the random plucking of bass strings that could be heard close to him.
“As a matter of fact, we might have not made it here without the help of a...foreign citizen that helped us out in our time of need. So this is a shout out to him. Thanks man, we owe you.” That was Gene who stopped plucking at his bass’ strings long enough to speak.
“But now it’s time to go back home.” Peter’s drumsticks clicked together several times before the chords of a melody were played by the band members.
“It's been a month or two since I was sleepin' with you. I'm comin' home again. I've been to east and west, but baby I like best the road that leads to you.”
Prowl’s musical tastes weren’t as wide and varied as Jazz’s or Blaster’s or even Bluestreak’s, but he would easily admit to enjoying the acoustic feel of the melody and carried on with his own trip back home as the music played on.
As the minutes turned to hours, he spotted a familiar vehicle between by two smaller cars one leading and the other tailing behind the vehicle. They were parked next to the road and Prowl couln’t help but stop where they had, wondering if the band was in need of assistance once more.
This time, though he didn’t bother staying on his alt mode and transformed, carefully making his way to the trio of vehicles. “Is everything okay?”
The band’s security all jumped back in shock, too startled by the sight to react to potential danger to their charges.
“Nah, it’s cool. We were just stopping for a quick dip and a snack.” Gene waved a hand at their security, letting them see the stranger was not a thread. “Fancy seeing you here, man.”
“I was on my way back home myself. Just stopped to see if you required assistance again.”
“It’s good that we got to see you again. We owe you one, so if there’s anything we can do for you just ask.” Paul patted Prowl’s leg with a towel around his neck and a can of soda on the other.
Prowl was about to thank the band and say good bye but then remembered something. “Actually, there might be something. A couple of friends of mine are your fans and I’m sure they’d appreciate if you could autograph something for them.”
Gene arched an eyebrow and drummed his fingers against his chin. “I think we can do something even better.”
“Better?” Prowl asked and tilted his head.
“Yep. Come -Prowl right?- let’s have a talk.” Gene patted Prowl’s other leg and gestured the Autobot to follow him further into the beach.
Peter watched them go and turned to look at Ace. “I insist I’ve heard his voice somewhere before.”
“Give it up, man.” Ace shrugged and took a long gulp of his cold soda can, wrapped up with what appeared to be Gene's unmentionables.
----------------
Later that day, Prowl returned to the Ark, delivering the important files to Optimus and debriefing him about the meeting he had with the mayor. After that he made an unusual request to Optimus to permit him to take out any non-essential member of the crew that could be spared, citing that it would be good for the crew’s morale.
Optimus had been surprised, as that was the kind of request he’d expect from Jazz or Blaster but rarely from Prowl. Prime agreed on the condition the mechs would be able the next day, and Prowl assured they would all be alright.
As the sun began to set, Prowl led a convoy of Autobots towards a beach not far too far away from the Ark. The sight that awaited for them there was a bonfire with four humans sitting close by.
“What is this?” Blaster asked as he transformed after Tracks opened his passenger door and Bumblebee pulled him out.
“Gentlemech, allow me to introduce to you to Mr. Paul Stanley, Gene Simmons, Ace Frehley and Peter Criss. I believe a few of you have heard about the band Kiss?”
“No way!” Blaster and Jazz gasped at unison, smiling wide.
“If would please sit around, we’ll try our best to entertain you.” Paul smiled and gestured around the beach which soon became littered with Autobots.
The band played unplugged for their captivated alien audience and Jazz couldn’t help but edge closer to Prowl to whisper. “Man, I don’t know how you managed this.”
“A chain of particular events and some luck.” Prowl shrugged. “If you brought your record with you, they’ll sign it as well.”
Jazz grinned at his friend but then scowled a little. “Ya didn’t make a deal with th’devil, did ya?”
“No.I made a deal with the demon.” Prowl deadpanned, much to Jazz’s amusement and mild concern as they settled to enjoy the rest of their private performance.
“C’mon guys! Sing this one with us!” Paul waved his hands, egging on their audience as they began to play one more song.
“You show us everything you've got. You keep on dancin' and the room gets hot. You drive us wild, we´ll drive you crazy!“
It took no further encouragement for the Autobots present to sing along, clapping and swaying to the rhythm of the antheming melody, chanting a carefree desire to Rock n Roll al night and party every day.
Prowl did not sing along, but smiled as his comrades did and enjoyed themselves, even the likes of Mirage and Ratchet were sucked into cheerful feel of the music and at least for one night they could all hope for a future full of Rock and Roll, although he certainly hoped not full of parties every day.
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Notes x 2: Peter Criss keeps insisting he's heard Prowl's voice because Michael Bell did the voice over work for Peter Criss in the Kiss meets the Panthom of the Park film. >>;; /geek
Notes x 3: Route will be fixed in the upcoming days, brains fried from studying and being non-american!