The Datsun Trio is back with a vengeance!
Title: Lost in Translation - Door Wing Style.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Prowl making a fool of himself. Jazz making an even bigger fool of himself. Smokescreen being a smug little bastard.
Pairings: Prow x Jazz
Characters: Bluestreak, Smokescreen, Jazz, Prowl. Mention of Optimus Prime.
Summary: Not many mechs are well versed in the Praxan art of door-wing lingo. Jazz certainly is not, and it's up to Smokescreen and Bluestreak to help their clueless brother and even more clueless Porsche friend to understand this fine art and finally get together.
Notes: You can all blame vericus for this. I'm once again playing with the 'The Datsuns are brothers' sandbox. This is pure and unadultered crack.
Not Beta'ed so feel free to correct me.
Smokescreen had been on this new planet called Earth less than a month, but that was all it took for him to come to terms with two apparent constants in the life of this crew. Prowl was a terrible flirt, and despite all the fame preceding Jazz's knowledge in regards to Cybertronian and alien culture, the Porsche knew nothing about the fine art of the door wing language.
It was both amusing and terribly pitiful in a way to watch his younger brother's attempts to flirt with the Porsche, if any because nobody would even realize Prowl was flirting in the first place. And how could they? He asked for Jazz's assistance occasionally, sitting the saboteur down in his office to go over piles and piles of pads containing requisitions for the special operations team he commanded. All the while twitching and moving his door wings in ways that spoke of the tactician's 'fondness' for the saboteur.
Sometimes Prowl invited Jazz to play some kind of game, usually strategy games that left Jazz floored after a succession of winning strikes courtesy of Prowl letting Jazz win so blatantly it wasn't funny. And yet, Jazz never seemed to grasp Prowl was letting him win and endured his teasing with little more than a frown... and a flutter of his door wings.
He was certain Prowl's use of his door wings to try to throw subtle hints about his liking wasn't entirely intentional. It was something only those with a similar model could understand, it was almost like a bee's mind set. They communicated among themselves so heavily through the sensory panels, that unconsciously they continued trying speaking to others with their wings.
The oldest of the 'Datsun Brothers' as Jazz had so kindly dubbed them, smiled fondly and remembered happier times when they were younger. Prowl, Bluestreak and himself could sit in a circle, twitching and fluttering their wings, having long and deep conversations without speaking a single word, all that needed to be said was spoken through the movements of their appendages.
And as they interacted with other mechs all around they also tried to speak with them with their door wings without really realizing they were. The movements themselves also spoke a lot about the mech in question. Bluestreak's movements were bolder and energetic, it was hard to miss any small change on their position simply because it was so glaringly in the face.
Prowl's, in the other hand, were subtle, small and rather elegant. One needed to be staring at his wings to notice the movements. While Bluestreak's wings would droop visibly almost to the point they could very well fold against his back when he was sad or upset, Prowl's barely dropped an inch at best.
The only time one could actually fully notice the change of positions was when Prowl was exceptionally angry, as the wings raised to form a v shape, framing his head and making him appear bigger and more dangerous. And truth be told, that change didn't occur often, the last time someone pissed Prowl enough to make him raise his wings like that, the poor fragger spent way too many days in a medical bay back on Cybertron.
Still, Prowl's attempts to flirt with Jazz using his door wings were failing miserably and neither Smokescreen nor Bluestreak could help but take pity at their brother.
Bluestreak, naive as he was, knew better than to try to use his wings alone to express his interest in Sunstreaker, and Smokescreen wasn't really interested in anyone enough to warrant the use of his wings in his advances. But Prowl's people skills needed work, a lot of work in Smokescreen's opinion.
"Make the movements more evident," Bluestreak told his brother in attempts to help his brother to gain the Porsche's attention.
Smokescreen couldn't hold back a snickering fit when Prowl took his little brother's advice and exaggerated the movements of his wings. To anyone that didn't understand the 'door wing lingo' it wasn't nearly as comical as it was for Bluestreak and Smokescreen. To them it was equal to watch Prowl flail his arms around and jumping up and down, trying to get Jazz's attention, and coming from the ever stiff, professional and proper Prowl, the sight was ridiculous and horribly amusing.
Smokescreen took pity on his brother and decided to intervene a little.
"Hey, Jazz." He greeted the saboteur in his way to his office.
"'Sup, Smokey?" Jazz smiled contently, feeling in particular good spirits.
"I was wondering, have you looked at Prowl's wings lately?"
"Huh?" The saboteur tilted his head and scratched one of his helm horns in thought. "No, I don't think so. Why? Somethin' happened to them?" He asked with genuine concern.
Smokescreen resisted the urge to slap his forehead and merely graced the Porsche with a tight smile. "No, they are fine as far as I can tell. I just think maybe you should give them a better look the next time you see Prowl." Having delivered his cryptic advice the oldest Datsun continued his merry way back to his quarters, leaving behind a very confused Porsche.
---------------------------
In retrospective, Smokescreen thought he faulted himself with giving Jazz too much credit, which led to the really awkward and amusing scene transpiring before his very optics. Sitting in their usual table in the recreation room were Prowl and Jazz engaged in a game. That alone wasn't out of the ordinary, no, but the fact Prowl was blatantly batting his wings like a bee or a butterfly in that specific door wing way that meant 'I like you', and Jazz was leaning forward with his optics glued on Prowl's wings was what made the scene so awkward.
Prowl knew Jazz was staring at his wings, and despite his perfectly serene and calm facial expression, his wings twitched and fluttered faster, almost erratically. Jazz was just staring at the wings completely lost in watching the movements. It was almost beautiful from a certain point of view because even with his exaggerated movements Prowl's wings were fairly elegant even in their frantic fluttering.
Sadly for Prowl, Bluestreak and Smokescreen were having a really hard time holding back their laughter. Jazz's expression was priceless, and the combination of Prowl's serious visage and door wing equivalent of arms flailing Kermit-style were making it so hard for them not to laugh.
The tactician was called by Optimus Prime soon after that, and then Jazz took the chance to interrogate the other Datsuns. "What the pit was that?" He asked, pointing at Bluestreak's wings.
"I suppose you didn't get it, did you?" The diversionary strategist asked through small snickers, the mental image of his brother's fluttering still fresh in his processors.
"Get what?" Jazz asked as clueless as one could get.
"His wings," Bluestreak supplied "Didn't you see what he was doing?"
"Of course I did. That's why I'm askin' what was that. I mean, it was really pretty, ya know?"
In a rather comical display of their own, Smokescreen and Bluestreak straightened in their seats, exchanged a quick glance and sighed heavily at the same time, their door wings drooped visibly. "I swear I don't know which one of you is worse." Smokescreen groaned and left his seat, intending to solve this issue once and for all.
Jazz merely stared in disbelief at the retreating Datsun, then turned to look at Bluestreak. "What'd I do?"
Bluestreak's door wings drooped even more and addressed an apologetic smile at the Porsche. "It's a little complicated."
------------------------
Deciding more straightforward measures were required, Smokescreen began to write down something into a data pad, reviewing it several times to make sure it was easy enough to understand.
Once he was satisfied with his work, the Datsun stalked his way to Jazz's office, pushing unceremoniously the pad into his hands and retreating without a word.
Jazz looked down at the pad to find a diagram drawn into the screen with several instructions of what seemed to be a translation of what the drawings meant. He stared at it for several minutes, trying to make sense out of the display and trying to understand why Smokescreen gave him this. So far he was drawing a blank and it was beginning to annoy him.
Later on that day he grunted unhappily as he moved a piece in the board of the game he was playing with Prowl, too concerned with trying to make sense out of all the things Smokescreen was doing to notice Prowl's door wings were still moving.
"Jazz?" Prowl asked softly, noticing his friend's distracted and rather unhappy state. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, but Smokescreen's throwin' my processors for a loop, here." Jazz grumbled and moved a piece, not really paying attention to what he was doing, and certainly not paying attention to Prowl refusing to do the logical move and eat the piece, instead opening a hole in his defenses so big that Optimus Prime could waltz through any day.
"Smokescreen?" Prowl's wings stopped fluttering and instead raised up to attention.
"Yeah, he's been givin' me all these cryptic messages an' even drew me a diagram of somethin' and I don't quite get why is he doin' this nor what is he tryin' ta tell me." Jazz sighed heavily and pushed another piece forward, ignoring the gaping hole in Prowl's defenses. "S'drivin' me crazy, man."
Bluestreak who was nearby groaned heavily, they couldn't possibly get any more frustrating. Smokescreen even drew him a diagram and Jazz still didn't get it!
"Jazz, did you even pay attention to that diagram?" Bluestreak asked with uncharacteristic annoyance.
"I did but I still don't get it. What door wings have to do those instructions he wrote down? They looked more like dancin' steps ta me."
Smokescreen marched into the room with the mother and father of annoyed expressions plastered over his facial plating, holding a large piece of cardboard in one hand. "The two of you are insufferable!" With that he took hold of his brother's hands and placed the cardboard piece in them, then forced him to hold the piece up for Jazz to see. Something was written in the side that faced the saboteur.
'Hello, Jazz. I like you very much. In fact I'm pitifully, madly in love with you. Would you like to go out on a date with me so I can stop fluttering my door wings around like an idiot?
- Prowl'
Jazz stared dumbfounded and re-read the message a couple of times, then pulled the pad out of his subspace and re-read the diagram and finally connected the dots.
Reaching to hold the piece of cardboard and beaming an apologetic but also amused smile, Jazz flipped the piece around to present Prowl with the message on it. Prowl stared at it for a couple of seconds before his wings drooped almost to the point of folding behind his back and he slammed his head hard against the table, groaning in utter embarrassment.
"Okay, I think that solves it." Smokescreen crossed his arms over his hood and smiled smugly.
"I'm going to kill you in your recharge, Smokescreen. I swear I'm going to rip your door wings with my own hands." Prowl muttered and slammed his head back against the table, leaving an impression of his helm's crest on the surface, his cheeks were heated with the embarrassment.
"Cut that out and start plotting a romantic evening with Mr. Clueless, here." Smokescreen waved a hand with disdain, while Jazz stuck his glossa out at him, though looking positively amused.
Prowl's door wings flared up into that v shape. "You better start running fast, Smokescreen, and pray to Primus I won't catch you."
With a snicker the older Datsun heeded the warning, knowing very well to put plenty of distance between himself and his brother when his wings were up like that. "Catch you later, love birds!"
Jazz watched Smokescreen beat a fast retreat before a very embarrassed Prowl set out in pursuit, alarms and sirens blaring loudly but doing very little to muffle the string of curses that ensued as Prowl chased after his brother with murderous intentions. "So," Jazz turned to Bluestreak, "How long has he been flirtin' with me?"
Bluestreak shook his head and patted Jazz's shoulder. "You'll have to ask him when he's not feeling... vindictive."
Jazz snickered and looked back down at the display, he was looking forward to discuss that matter with Prowl. He only hoped there'd be enough of Smokescreen left by the time Prowl was through with him to ask the oldest Datsun to make him a Door Wing-English dictionary, because he suspected he was going to need it.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Prowl making a fool of himself. Jazz making an even bigger fool of himself. Smokescreen being a smug little bastard.
Pairings: Prow x Jazz
Characters: Bluestreak, Smokescreen, Jazz, Prowl. Mention of Optimus Prime.
Summary: Not many mechs are well versed in the Praxan art of door-wing lingo. Jazz certainly is not, and it's up to Smokescreen and Bluestreak to help their clueless brother and even more clueless Porsche friend to understand this fine art and finally get together.
Notes: You can all blame vericus for this. I'm once again playing with the 'The Datsuns are brothers' sandbox. This is pure and unadultered crack.
Not Beta'ed so feel free to correct me.
Smokescreen had been on this new planet called Earth less than a month, but that was all it took for him to come to terms with two apparent constants in the life of this crew. Prowl was a terrible flirt, and despite all the fame preceding Jazz's knowledge in regards to Cybertronian and alien culture, the Porsche knew nothing about the fine art of the door wing language.
It was both amusing and terribly pitiful in a way to watch his younger brother's attempts to flirt with the Porsche, if any because nobody would even realize Prowl was flirting in the first place. And how could they? He asked for Jazz's assistance occasionally, sitting the saboteur down in his office to go over piles and piles of pads containing requisitions for the special operations team he commanded. All the while twitching and moving his door wings in ways that spoke of the tactician's 'fondness' for the saboteur.
Sometimes Prowl invited Jazz to play some kind of game, usually strategy games that left Jazz floored after a succession of winning strikes courtesy of Prowl letting Jazz win so blatantly it wasn't funny. And yet, Jazz never seemed to grasp Prowl was letting him win and endured his teasing with little more than a frown... and a flutter of his door wings.
He was certain Prowl's use of his door wings to try to throw subtle hints about his liking wasn't entirely intentional. It was something only those with a similar model could understand, it was almost like a bee's mind set. They communicated among themselves so heavily through the sensory panels, that unconsciously they continued trying speaking to others with their wings.
The oldest of the 'Datsun Brothers' as Jazz had so kindly dubbed them, smiled fondly and remembered happier times when they were younger. Prowl, Bluestreak and himself could sit in a circle, twitching and fluttering their wings, having long and deep conversations without speaking a single word, all that needed to be said was spoken through the movements of their appendages.
And as they interacted with other mechs all around they also tried to speak with them with their door wings without really realizing they were. The movements themselves also spoke a lot about the mech in question. Bluestreak's movements were bolder and energetic, it was hard to miss any small change on their position simply because it was so glaringly in the face.
Prowl's, in the other hand, were subtle, small and rather elegant. One needed to be staring at his wings to notice the movements. While Bluestreak's wings would droop visibly almost to the point they could very well fold against his back when he was sad or upset, Prowl's barely dropped an inch at best.
The only time one could actually fully notice the change of positions was when Prowl was exceptionally angry, as the wings raised to form a v shape, framing his head and making him appear bigger and more dangerous. And truth be told, that change didn't occur often, the last time someone pissed Prowl enough to make him raise his wings like that, the poor fragger spent way too many days in a medical bay back on Cybertron.
Still, Prowl's attempts to flirt with Jazz using his door wings were failing miserably and neither Smokescreen nor Bluestreak could help but take pity at their brother.
Bluestreak, naive as he was, knew better than to try to use his wings alone to express his interest in Sunstreaker, and Smokescreen wasn't really interested in anyone enough to warrant the use of his wings in his advances. But Prowl's people skills needed work, a lot of work in Smokescreen's opinion.
"Make the movements more evident," Bluestreak told his brother in attempts to help his brother to gain the Porsche's attention.
Smokescreen couldn't hold back a snickering fit when Prowl took his little brother's advice and exaggerated the movements of his wings. To anyone that didn't understand the 'door wing lingo' it wasn't nearly as comical as it was for Bluestreak and Smokescreen. To them it was equal to watch Prowl flail his arms around and jumping up and down, trying to get Jazz's attention, and coming from the ever stiff, professional and proper Prowl, the sight was ridiculous and horribly amusing.
Smokescreen took pity on his brother and decided to intervene a little.
"Hey, Jazz." He greeted the saboteur in his way to his office.
"'Sup, Smokey?" Jazz smiled contently, feeling in particular good spirits.
"I was wondering, have you looked at Prowl's wings lately?"
"Huh?" The saboteur tilted his head and scratched one of his helm horns in thought. "No, I don't think so. Why? Somethin' happened to them?" He asked with genuine concern.
Smokescreen resisted the urge to slap his forehead and merely graced the Porsche with a tight smile. "No, they are fine as far as I can tell. I just think maybe you should give them a better look the next time you see Prowl." Having delivered his cryptic advice the oldest Datsun continued his merry way back to his quarters, leaving behind a very confused Porsche.
---------------------------
In retrospective, Smokescreen thought he faulted himself with giving Jazz too much credit, which led to the really awkward and amusing scene transpiring before his very optics. Sitting in their usual table in the recreation room were Prowl and Jazz engaged in a game. That alone wasn't out of the ordinary, no, but the fact Prowl was blatantly batting his wings like a bee or a butterfly in that specific door wing way that meant 'I like you', and Jazz was leaning forward with his optics glued on Prowl's wings was what made the scene so awkward.
Prowl knew Jazz was staring at his wings, and despite his perfectly serene and calm facial expression, his wings twitched and fluttered faster, almost erratically. Jazz was just staring at the wings completely lost in watching the movements. It was almost beautiful from a certain point of view because even with his exaggerated movements Prowl's wings were fairly elegant even in their frantic fluttering.
Sadly for Prowl, Bluestreak and Smokescreen were having a really hard time holding back their laughter. Jazz's expression was priceless, and the combination of Prowl's serious visage and door wing equivalent of arms flailing Kermit-style were making it so hard for them not to laugh.
The tactician was called by Optimus Prime soon after that, and then Jazz took the chance to interrogate the other Datsuns. "What the pit was that?" He asked, pointing at Bluestreak's wings.
"I suppose you didn't get it, did you?" The diversionary strategist asked through small snickers, the mental image of his brother's fluttering still fresh in his processors.
"Get what?" Jazz asked as clueless as one could get.
"His wings," Bluestreak supplied "Didn't you see what he was doing?"
"Of course I did. That's why I'm askin' what was that. I mean, it was really pretty, ya know?"
In a rather comical display of their own, Smokescreen and Bluestreak straightened in their seats, exchanged a quick glance and sighed heavily at the same time, their door wings drooped visibly. "I swear I don't know which one of you is worse." Smokescreen groaned and left his seat, intending to solve this issue once and for all.
Jazz merely stared in disbelief at the retreating Datsun, then turned to look at Bluestreak. "What'd I do?"
Bluestreak's door wings drooped even more and addressed an apologetic smile at the Porsche. "It's a little complicated."
------------------------
Deciding more straightforward measures were required, Smokescreen began to write down something into a data pad, reviewing it several times to make sure it was easy enough to understand.
Once he was satisfied with his work, the Datsun stalked his way to Jazz's office, pushing unceremoniously the pad into his hands and retreating without a word.
Jazz looked down at the pad to find a diagram drawn into the screen with several instructions of what seemed to be a translation of what the drawings meant. He stared at it for several minutes, trying to make sense out of the display and trying to understand why Smokescreen gave him this. So far he was drawing a blank and it was beginning to annoy him.
Later on that day he grunted unhappily as he moved a piece in the board of the game he was playing with Prowl, too concerned with trying to make sense out of all the things Smokescreen was doing to notice Prowl's door wings were still moving.
"Jazz?" Prowl asked softly, noticing his friend's distracted and rather unhappy state. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, but Smokescreen's throwin' my processors for a loop, here." Jazz grumbled and moved a piece, not really paying attention to what he was doing, and certainly not paying attention to Prowl refusing to do the logical move and eat the piece, instead opening a hole in his defenses so big that Optimus Prime could waltz through any day.
"Smokescreen?" Prowl's wings stopped fluttering and instead raised up to attention.
"Yeah, he's been givin' me all these cryptic messages an' even drew me a diagram of somethin' and I don't quite get why is he doin' this nor what is he tryin' ta tell me." Jazz sighed heavily and pushed another piece forward, ignoring the gaping hole in Prowl's defenses. "S'drivin' me crazy, man."
Bluestreak who was nearby groaned heavily, they couldn't possibly get any more frustrating. Smokescreen even drew him a diagram and Jazz still didn't get it!
"Jazz, did you even pay attention to that diagram?" Bluestreak asked with uncharacteristic annoyance.
"I did but I still don't get it. What door wings have to do those instructions he wrote down? They looked more like dancin' steps ta me."
Smokescreen marched into the room with the mother and father of annoyed expressions plastered over his facial plating, holding a large piece of cardboard in one hand. "The two of you are insufferable!" With that he took hold of his brother's hands and placed the cardboard piece in them, then forced him to hold the piece up for Jazz to see. Something was written in the side that faced the saboteur.
'Hello, Jazz. I like you very much. In fact I'm pitifully, madly in love with you. Would you like to go out on a date with me so I can stop fluttering my door wings around like an idiot?
- Prowl'
Jazz stared dumbfounded and re-read the message a couple of times, then pulled the pad out of his subspace and re-read the diagram and finally connected the dots.
Reaching to hold the piece of cardboard and beaming an apologetic but also amused smile, Jazz flipped the piece around to present Prowl with the message on it. Prowl stared at it for a couple of seconds before his wings drooped almost to the point of folding behind his back and he slammed his head hard against the table, groaning in utter embarrassment.
"Okay, I think that solves it." Smokescreen crossed his arms over his hood and smiled smugly.
"I'm going to kill you in your recharge, Smokescreen. I swear I'm going to rip your door wings with my own hands." Prowl muttered and slammed his head back against the table, leaving an impression of his helm's crest on the surface, his cheeks were heated with the embarrassment.
"Cut that out and start plotting a romantic evening with Mr. Clueless, here." Smokescreen waved a hand with disdain, while Jazz stuck his glossa out at him, though looking positively amused.
Prowl's door wings flared up into that v shape. "You better start running fast, Smokescreen, and pray to Primus I won't catch you."
With a snicker the older Datsun heeded the warning, knowing very well to put plenty of distance between himself and his brother when his wings were up like that. "Catch you later, love birds!"
Jazz watched Smokescreen beat a fast retreat before a very embarrassed Prowl set out in pursuit, alarms and sirens blaring loudly but doing very little to muffle the string of curses that ensued as Prowl chased after his brother with murderous intentions. "So," Jazz turned to Bluestreak, "How long has he been flirtin' with me?"
Bluestreak shook his head and patted Jazz's shoulder. "You'll have to ask him when he's not feeling... vindictive."
Jazz snickered and looked back down at the display, he was looking forward to discuss that matter with Prowl. He only hoped there'd be enough of Smokescreen left by the time Prowl was through with him to ask the oldest Datsun to make him a Door Wing-English dictionary, because he suspected he was going to need it.