Cold Spark - Chapter 6
Computer problems... Hopefully I am back on track now!
Title: Cold Spark (Chapter 6 of ?)
Verse: G1 with references to WFC later
Rating: PG
Other Characters: Ironhide, Blaster, mention of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker
Warnings: none
Summary/Notes: The misunderstandings continue…
(I do not own Transformers.)
Jazz entered his office. It was another cycle. It had started exactly like every other cycle for the past deca-cycle. Something was a bit different this time. A data chip sat on his desk. It had no markings and no indication of who it was from. Jazz looked at it warily and picked it up. He turned it over in his servos and still had no idea what it contained or who had put it there. Jazz slipped the data chip into his console and ran a virus scan. When it came up clean, he opened the files and checked the contents. It contained music files. In fact, it was the new release of one of his favorite bands. Jazz checked his internal chronometer and discovered that because of his argument with Prowl he had forgotten all about the release dates for new music. He shook his head and smiled for the first time in orns.
***
Two cycles later Jazz actually made an appearance in the rec room. He had been drawn there by the music. Apparently, the others on the base had gotten tired of waiting for Jazz to throw a party and they had put together their own impromptu celebration over the latest victory over the Decepticons. Blaster was supplying the music and Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had produced a modest amount of high grade. When Jazz had entered the room everyone in the rec room paused and almost looked guilty for partaking in a party that had not been organized by Jazz. A small smile crossed his face and he walked over the Blaster. He handed the new data chip over to his friend and Blaster started playing the music. At that, everyone in the room relaxed and went back to their socializing. Jazz gently tapped Blaster's arm, thanked him for giving him the music, and wandered over to a group of mechs. Jazz did not notice the puzzled look on Blaster's face.
***
Prowl sat in Ironhide's office. He was clearly annoyed. "I thought special ops mechs were supposed to be smart," he growled.
Ironhide sat quietly and waited for Prowl to continue.
"It has been three cycles now and Jazz hasn't mentioned the music files," Prowl complained. "I'm not expecting a simple gift to fix everything but he could at least say thank you."
Ironhide raised an optic ridge. Prowl was right. It wasn't like Jazz to not acknowledge a gift even if he wasn't on good terms with Prowl at the moment. "What exactly did you do, Prowl?" he asked.
Prowl glared at the weapons specialist. "I left a data chip with some music from one of his favorite bands on his desk."
Ironhide immediately suspected what the problem was. "Did you leave a note?"
Prowl looked hard at Ironhide. "Of course not. You said the last time I spoke to you that in order to romance Jazz that I had to pay attention to his particular likes and behave in a way that would be endearing to him. I sneaked into his office and left the data chip. I thought he would try to figure out who had left it. Saboteurs like to solve puzzles."
Ironhide's helm hit his desk. He had been at the party the previous cycle. He saw Jazz hand a data chip to Blaster and had figured out what had happened. "Prowl," he muttered, "I think that Jazz believes that Blaster gave him the chip."
Prowl stared at Ironhide completely expressionlessly. "That is not logical, Ironhide. Why would anyone else but me give a gift to Jazz?" he asked.
"Prowl," Ironhide growled, "Jazz does have friends. He probably thought Blaster was trying to cheer him up since they both enjoy music." Ironhide hated that he had to spell everything out for the tactician. He couldn't help but ask, "How did you manage to become SIC?"
Prowl replied evenly, "I had the best qualifications to be a tactician."
Ironhide shook his helm. "Never mind," he grumbled. "You are going to have to try again and this time you will have to leave a note or some way to tell Jazz that the gift is from you."
Prowl huffed quietly. It had taken him quite a while to figure out what to give to Jazz that would be personal and meaningful. He was frustrated that his initial effort had resulted in nothing. Now he had to think of something else. He sent the problem to his tactical processor to work out a new plan. He was determined to not fail this time.
***
Jazz wearily entered his office. While the most recent engagement against the Decepticons had gone well, there had still been a number of minor injuries. Then there had been the reports and the seemingly endless paperwork. He had turned in the last data pads to Optimus and returned to his office just to make sure there wasn't anything else he had to do before leaving to return to his makeshift quarters. He really didn't want to go there but he didn't want to stay in his office either. He took a quick glance at his desk and froze. A glowing cube of high grade sat in the middle of his desk. He smiled and murmured to himself, "Sunny and Sides. Ya two always know how to cheer up a mech."
Jazz carefully picked up the cube and carried it to the storage closet where he recharged. He sat down on his recharge mat and reached for a novel. He read for a bit before lifting the cube to his lips and taking a sip. He savored the sweet smooth taste and then looked down at the cube with a curious expression. This was not a cube of the twins' homebrew that he was holding in his servo. This was an aged blend. He could detect the faint taste of minerals not found on earth. This was a blend which had been produced on Cybertron. While there were a number of mechs who had Cybertronian high grade stashed in their quarters, and even a few who had some of the highly desirable Vosnian high grade, there was only one who had a meager supply of Praxian high grade. "Prowl," Jazz whispered.
Title: Cold Spark (Chapter 6 of ?)
Verse: G1 with references to WFC later
Rating: PG
Other Characters: Ironhide, Blaster, mention of Sideswipe and Sunstreaker
Warnings: none
Summary/Notes: The misunderstandings continue…
(I do not own Transformers.)
Jazz entered his office. It was another cycle. It had started exactly like every other cycle for the past deca-cycle. Something was a bit different this time. A data chip sat on his desk. It had no markings and no indication of who it was from. Jazz looked at it warily and picked it up. He turned it over in his servos and still had no idea what it contained or who had put it there. Jazz slipped the data chip into his console and ran a virus scan. When it came up clean, he opened the files and checked the contents. It contained music files. In fact, it was the new release of one of his favorite bands. Jazz checked his internal chronometer and discovered that because of his argument with Prowl he had forgotten all about the release dates for new music. He shook his head and smiled for the first time in orns.
***
Two cycles later Jazz actually made an appearance in the rec room. He had been drawn there by the music. Apparently, the others on the base had gotten tired of waiting for Jazz to throw a party and they had put together their own impromptu celebration over the latest victory over the Decepticons. Blaster was supplying the music and Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had produced a modest amount of high grade. When Jazz had entered the room everyone in the rec room paused and almost looked guilty for partaking in a party that had not been organized by Jazz. A small smile crossed his face and he walked over the Blaster. He handed the new data chip over to his friend and Blaster started playing the music. At that, everyone in the room relaxed and went back to their socializing. Jazz gently tapped Blaster's arm, thanked him for giving him the music, and wandered over to a group of mechs. Jazz did not notice the puzzled look on Blaster's face.
***
Prowl sat in Ironhide's office. He was clearly annoyed. "I thought special ops mechs were supposed to be smart," he growled.
Ironhide sat quietly and waited for Prowl to continue.
"It has been three cycles now and Jazz hasn't mentioned the music files," Prowl complained. "I'm not expecting a simple gift to fix everything but he could at least say thank you."
Ironhide raised an optic ridge. Prowl was right. It wasn't like Jazz to not acknowledge a gift even if he wasn't on good terms with Prowl at the moment. "What exactly did you do, Prowl?" he asked.
Prowl glared at the weapons specialist. "I left a data chip with some music from one of his favorite bands on his desk."
Ironhide immediately suspected what the problem was. "Did you leave a note?"
Prowl looked hard at Ironhide. "Of course not. You said the last time I spoke to you that in order to romance Jazz that I had to pay attention to his particular likes and behave in a way that would be endearing to him. I sneaked into his office and left the data chip. I thought he would try to figure out who had left it. Saboteurs like to solve puzzles."
Ironhide's helm hit his desk. He had been at the party the previous cycle. He saw Jazz hand a data chip to Blaster and had figured out what had happened. "Prowl," he muttered, "I think that Jazz believes that Blaster gave him the chip."
Prowl stared at Ironhide completely expressionlessly. "That is not logical, Ironhide. Why would anyone else but me give a gift to Jazz?" he asked.
"Prowl," Ironhide growled, "Jazz does have friends. He probably thought Blaster was trying to cheer him up since they both enjoy music." Ironhide hated that he had to spell everything out for the tactician. He couldn't help but ask, "How did you manage to become SIC?"
Prowl replied evenly, "I had the best qualifications to be a tactician."
Ironhide shook his helm. "Never mind," he grumbled. "You are going to have to try again and this time you will have to leave a note or some way to tell Jazz that the gift is from you."
Prowl huffed quietly. It had taken him quite a while to figure out what to give to Jazz that would be personal and meaningful. He was frustrated that his initial effort had resulted in nothing. Now he had to think of something else. He sent the problem to his tactical processor to work out a new plan. He was determined to not fail this time.
***
Jazz wearily entered his office. While the most recent engagement against the Decepticons had gone well, there had still been a number of minor injuries. Then there had been the reports and the seemingly endless paperwork. He had turned in the last data pads to Optimus and returned to his office just to make sure there wasn't anything else he had to do before leaving to return to his makeshift quarters. He really didn't want to go there but he didn't want to stay in his office either. He took a quick glance at his desk and froze. A glowing cube of high grade sat in the middle of his desk. He smiled and murmured to himself, "Sunny and Sides. Ya two always know how to cheer up a mech."
Jazz carefully picked up the cube and carried it to the storage closet where he recharged. He sat down on his recharge mat and reached for a novel. He read for a bit before lifting the cube to his lips and taking a sip. He savored the sweet smooth taste and then looked down at the cube with a curious expression. This was not a cube of the twins' homebrew that he was holding in his servo. This was an aged blend. He could detect the faint taste of minerals not found on earth. This was a blend which had been produced on Cybertron. While there were a number of mechs who had Cybertronian high grade stashed in their quarters, and even a few who had some of the highly desirable Vosnian high grade, there was only one who had a meager supply of Praxian high grade. "Prowl," Jazz whispered.