[Fic] Party planners
Title: Party planners (first seven scenes) - edited!
Rating: T (just to be safe)
‘Verse: G1
Summary: The pranksters of the Ark aren’t the only ones who can plan a Christmas celebration.
taralynden - Prowl & Jazz
casusfere - Red Alert & Inferno
xobit_prime - Hound & Mirage
A/N: unfortunately due to RL issues we haven't managed to get this finished in time, but we're posting the first half just within the deadline. We'll get the rest up when we can. ^_^; (ETA: oops, just missed the deadline *sigh*)
Scene 1, prompt: Oh the weather outside is frightful (taralynden)
Prowl moved into the shelter of the Ark’s entrance and transformed, wincing as he felt mud squelching and shifting within his armour at the move. Through the bond with Jazz he felt a sense of surprise and joy at his unanticipated arrival. That was the reason he had made this trek, for the pleasure of his mate’s company. It was worth it, surely?
Aware that he was leaving puddles and a muddy trail in his wake, which he would have to clean up later, he trudged towards the rec room where he found several others having their evening ration.
“The weather outside is frightful.” he announced, shuffling over to the energon dispenser and retrieving a half-cube, amused at Jazz choking on his drink at the sight of him.
“But the fire’s so delightful?” Hound asked with a surprised laugh.
“What?” he asked blankly.
“Cultural ref’rence.” Jazz explained.
“What fire?” Red Alert demanded, alarmed. “Where?”
“No, Red, there’s no fire...” Inferno started to explain.
“I see things are chaotically normal here.” Prowl said drily, drinking his energon.
“Aw, you know it just ain’t as fun wit’out ya. Wasn’t expectin’ ya back so quick though - is somethin’ wrong? Where’re the others?”
“The statement made no sense.” Mirage was complaining to Hound as Inferno followed Red Alert out, the security director determined to check the security system to double check the absence of the alleged fire. “I don’t understand why you said it.”
“It’s the start of a song...”
“They were sensible enough to remain in Portland until the weather clears.” Prowl answered.
“An’ you weren’t?”
Prowl finished his drink and headed to the corridor.
“I had promised you I would return to spend this break period with you.”
“You came back through the worst storm in years just for me?”
And for another reason, which Jazz would discover later. This year, with so many of the Ark’s crew away and no humans around, the annual Christmas party was not going ahead. Prowl had never been involved in it anyway, and had thought it a total waste of time and resources, but it clearly meant a great deal to his mate.
So. He was going to attempt to celebrate the human tradition for the sake of his partner. Not in the loud, flamboyant way that Jazz would, but in a way that he could cope with. And there were a couple of others here he intended to draw in to help him.
“Yes, Jazz.” he agreed. “I came back for you. Now come and help me in the washracks. Some of this mud has gotten so deep I may yet require medical assistance to remove it!”
Scene 2, prompt: Baby, it's cold outside (Xobit)
“A song? Why would anyone sing about bad weather!” Mirage shook his head, dermas thinning in annoyance. Humans where strange beings, sometimes he found them very alien.
“Well, they have a lot of different types of weather? They sing about both the good and the bad kind…” Hound seemed so… accepting. But that wasn’t a surprise was it? No matter what this world threw at the tracker he just seemed to shrug it off.
“But why? Why sing about bad weather and fire… neither is very pleasant.” Of course he could ask Teletraan one to compile a list of cultural references and suggested explanations. He would rather hear his partner’s thoughts about the matter though.
“The fire in that song was one of those they use to heat their homes with. And I guess, it’s a way to see the best in any situation? Let me play one for you! Blaster showed it to me some years back.” The tracker was frowning a little at him and Mirage tilted his head.
“You can show me. But first, what is worrying you?”
“I just realized that you have never been home for any of the Christmas parties. Or at least you haven’t participated in them, have you?” The frown had deepned a little and Mirage smiled. Of course Hound would be worried about that!
“I haven’t. Usually there have been missions, or shifts… or other things.” His voice dropped a little on the last part; tone just this side of suggestive. Last year’s party had been missed because they had had their own private party.
“Oh… right. Well, come here.” Hound got up and gallantly offered a hand that Mirage took even though he did not need help getting up. Together they walked to the sound system where Mirage watched while the tracker muttered his way through the lists of human music Blaster and Jazz had stocked it with.
“Here it is.” Following right on the words a melody filled the air.
‘I really can't stay - Baby it's cold outside
I've got to go away - Baby it's cold outside
This evening has been - Been hoping that you'd drop in
So very nice - I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice
...’
Mirage listened as the two voices played, paying attention to the actual words. Cold outside? It seemed like a love song, but it was also about a bad snow storm…
“The one I was quoting first, it’s also a love song you know… about not wanting to say goodbye to the one you love.” Hound purred playfully into his audio receptor, green arms sneaking about his waist. Mirage smiled a little and admitted, to himself at least, that maybe singing about bad weather was not such a bad thing…
Scene 3, prompt: Sitting by the fireplace - (casusfere)
“Nah, it's about romance,” Inferno continued trying to explain, happily oblivious to Red Alert's utter disinterest in human culture. “Two people takin' a break from bad weather and stayin' warm.” His engine gave a lecherous little rev at the last part.
Red Alert shook his head, ducking his head to hide his smile. “By interfacing, no doubt,” he said dryly, typing in the passcode to the security center.
Inferno laughed. “Hey now, you tryin' to suggest somethin', Red?” He gave Red Alert his best leer. “If you insist, I s'pose we could round us up a nice romantic fire to uh, 'keep warm' together.”
“Can you go five breems without thinking of interfacing?” Red Alert mock-grumbled, dropping into his chair and logging on to the system.
“Hey, you brought it up!” Inferno countered happily, following him in. “Can't be just me thinkin' of it.” He leaned against the back of Red Alert's chair, fingertips brushing against a tire.
“Would you let me work?” the security director growled.
“What if I don't wantcha workin'?” Inferno gave the tire a playful pinch, making Red Alert jump and swat at his hand.
“Some of us have work to do,” Red Alert huffed.
“Aw Red, your shift's been over for-”
“Don't 'Aw Red' me. I still have work to do,” Red Alert interrupted, trying to forestall an entirely too-logical argument. His shift ended before Inferno had managed to drag him down to the rec room, and he didn't have any duties that couldn't wait for the next day - but now that he'd thought about there being a fire, he wasn't going to be able to relax until he double-checked. It was stupid and it was frustrating; he knew that Hound had been making a culture reference, he knew it was some silly human song, but the idea wouldn't leave him alone until he made absolutely sure.
“Hey,” Inferno said softly, rubbing a hand across his tire. “You're tensin' up.”
Red Alert blew air out his exhaust, slouching and letting his head thump back against Inferno's chest. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
Inferno's hand kept moving in soothing circles against his tire. “It's okay, Red. Finish whatcha need and then we can see 'bout findin' us a nice fire to cozy up by.”
Red Alert smiled. “Who needs a fire? I have a firetruck.”
The warm laughter from behind him was better than any fire.
On to scenes 4-6... (hosted on redxinferno)
...and scenes 7-8 (hosted on houndxmirage)
A/N #2: we realised belatedly that the houndxmirage community is locked to members only, so here are the scenes posted there.
Scene 7, prompt: frostbite (taralynden)
Prowl had been in the command centre for almost an hour before he heard the noise of someone approaching. It was not a concern - with such a small crew on site there was no need to keep mechs occupied, nor to fear what they might get up to if not kept that way - but it was unusual. It was a rare day when he reached Teletran for the morning report ahead of Red Alert, and an even rarer one when he had filed his analysis report before the other mech arrived.
He supposed he should take it as a good sign that the security director had relaxed enough to allow such a change in routine, but this morning he had hoped for a quiet discussion before others were up and about.
“You’re later than I thought you would be.” he commented as Red Alert hurried in and downloaded the report, followed more sedately by Inferno.
“He’s not late for his shift.” the larger mech defended his mate. “Yours hasn’t started either, according to the timetable.”
Prowl looked at him calmly, calculating the likelihood that Inferno would leave of his own accord and deciding that the probabilities were not high. A diversion was required. He focused on where Red Alert had settled into the chair in front of the comms station and was running a routine diagnostic.
“The weather outside has worsened - it seems our mail delivery will not likely be made today.”
“Don’t be so sure.” Red Alert warned. “It was worse than this two years ago when that idiot postman got here and had to be flown to hospital with that illness where his derma was dying. Idiot kept muttering something about the mail getting through fog and ice and something else.”
“Frostbite.” Inferno recalled.
“That’s it. Silly name. Frost is a way to describe meteorological conditions, it has no mouth so how can it bite?”
Prowl grimaced, refusing to let his processor even begin to work on that statement or he would crash without achieving anything.
“Indeed. Perhaps, then, we should take some measures to ensure we do not end up in a similar predicament this year. Particularly since there are no flier models among us.”
“You want me to go check if he’s on his way?” Inferno asked.
Prowl nearly smiled. Wonderful, predictable, helpful Inferno.
“That may be wise.” he nodded. “And perhaps leave a notice at the turn-off at the main road; I’m sure whatever mail is intended for us can wait until the storm has passed. I would recommend taking Hound with you in case you lose the road through poor visibility. And perhaps Jazz should go as well.”
“He’s no scout.” Red Alert looked up at him, beginning to show the first hints of suspicion.
“No, but judging by the weather forecast it may be the last opportunity to go out for some time, and he does tend to get restless when cooped up.” Prowl responded.
“Sure thing. Don’t worry, Red, we won’t be long.”
“Be safe.” Red Alert warned.
“We will.”
Inferno headed out, and Red Alert continued staring at Prowl.
“So? What’s all this about?”
“I needed to speak with you uninterrupted.”
The security director folded his arms.
“You could have just set a meeting. This is unofficial?”
“Most definitely.”
“And it involves Mirage?”
“No. What makes you think that?”
“Sending Inferno off with Hound. I hardly think Mirage will choose to join them out in the worst of the weather.”
“That was a practical decision: it is unwise for anyone to go out in such weather alone, and Hound is the most capable in the circumstances.”
“And if Jazz doesn’t go?”
“I will know if he approaches and we can change the topic.”
“Alright, so what is this unofficial scheme of yours that you need my help with?”
“I want to organise a Christmas party.”
He could tell right away that this was going to be a hard sell.
Scene 8, prompt: Ornaments (Xobit)
“Really, Hound?” Mirage watched his lover with skeptical optics, which soon dropped to the big box the other had hauled out from under his berth.
“Really, Mirage.” The tracker didn’t seem the least bit perturbed that the noble was less than enthusiastic about his idea. Deft hands pulled the lid off the box and Mirage had to keep in a sound of appreciation. these were not the things he had seen hanging about the Ark in general in the aftermath of ‘Christmas’ the other years here on earth.
“I don’t really have a lot, I collect a bit every year… see this?” The tracker held up a clear box that held four absolutely gorgeous fragile looking glass balls, in his own colors. Mirage was instantly flattered knowing all too well why those colors had been chosen.
“They are this year’s haul. And I don’t intend to have us decorate the entire ark either… I would prefer to keep these to our quarters, really… they would never survive the twins. Or Cliffjumper.” Too right! If all of it was this fragile and beautiful… they wouldn’t last an ordinary day in the Ark’s volatile environment.
“Well… okay then, I’ll help yo…”He broke off when Hound held up a hand, blue optics going distant. The tracker’s dermas tinned a little with disappointment and he gently put the clear box back in the big box before standing.
“Thank you, love, but it will have to wait. We’re going to make sure that no humans are trying to reach us in this weather.” Mirage frowned but accepted the chaste kiss he got and watched the other mech go. That was odd to say the least… what was going on?
He decided to go find Prowl or Red Alert to get an answer. It was easy enough to locate both and they seemed deep in discussion… politely spoken.
“I am not helping you create madness!” Red Alert was looking about to fritz, stubborn and angry. Prowl looked resigned but determined.
“It is simply a party. It would make Inferno happy, Jazz would be happy… is that not worth a relatively small sacrifice?” Had he been asked last night Mirage would probably have taken Red Alert’s side…
But there were those ornaments and the expression on Hound’s face plates…
“Arhm?” Politely making himself know to them, dropping the mod he hardly thought about having turned on, he smiled at them both.
“If I may have a say in the discussion… I believe that we can make a party that is less… flamboyant than the usual ones held here are. After all we want to be a little more intimate, right?” Pausing he raise an optical ridge at them, waiting to see what would happen.
To be continued ^_^
Edit: 2nd half finally posted June 2012!
Rating: T (just to be safe)
‘Verse: G1
Summary: The pranksters of the Ark aren’t the only ones who can plan a Christmas celebration.
taralynden - Prowl & Jazz
casusfere - Red Alert & Inferno
xobit_prime - Hound & Mirage
A/N: unfortunately due to RL issues we haven't managed to get this finished in time, but we're posting the first half just within the deadline. We'll get the rest up when we can. ^_^; (ETA: oops, just missed the deadline *sigh*)
Scene 1, prompt: Oh the weather outside is frightful (taralynden)
Prowl moved into the shelter of the Ark’s entrance and transformed, wincing as he felt mud squelching and shifting within his armour at the move. Through the bond with Jazz he felt a sense of surprise and joy at his unanticipated arrival. That was the reason he had made this trek, for the pleasure of his mate’s company. It was worth it, surely?
Aware that he was leaving puddles and a muddy trail in his wake, which he would have to clean up later, he trudged towards the rec room where he found several others having their evening ration.
“The weather outside is frightful.” he announced, shuffling over to the energon dispenser and retrieving a half-cube, amused at Jazz choking on his drink at the sight of him.
“But the fire’s so delightful?” Hound asked with a surprised laugh.
“What?” he asked blankly.
“Cultural ref’rence.” Jazz explained.
“What fire?” Red Alert demanded, alarmed. “Where?”
“No, Red, there’s no fire...” Inferno started to explain.
“I see things are chaotically normal here.” Prowl said drily, drinking his energon.
“Aw, you know it just ain’t as fun wit’out ya. Wasn’t expectin’ ya back so quick though - is somethin’ wrong? Where’re the others?”
“The statement made no sense.” Mirage was complaining to Hound as Inferno followed Red Alert out, the security director determined to check the security system to double check the absence of the alleged fire. “I don’t understand why you said it.”
“It’s the start of a song...”
“They were sensible enough to remain in Portland until the weather clears.” Prowl answered.
“An’ you weren’t?”
Prowl finished his drink and headed to the corridor.
“I had promised you I would return to spend this break period with you.”
“You came back through the worst storm in years just for me?”
And for another reason, which Jazz would discover later. This year, with so many of the Ark’s crew away and no humans around, the annual Christmas party was not going ahead. Prowl had never been involved in it anyway, and had thought it a total waste of time and resources, but it clearly meant a great deal to his mate.
So. He was going to attempt to celebrate the human tradition for the sake of his partner. Not in the loud, flamboyant way that Jazz would, but in a way that he could cope with. And there were a couple of others here he intended to draw in to help him.
“Yes, Jazz.” he agreed. “I came back for you. Now come and help me in the washracks. Some of this mud has gotten so deep I may yet require medical assistance to remove it!”
Scene 2, prompt: Baby, it's cold outside (Xobit)
“A song? Why would anyone sing about bad weather!” Mirage shook his head, dermas thinning in annoyance. Humans where strange beings, sometimes he found them very alien.
“Well, they have a lot of different types of weather? They sing about both the good and the bad kind…” Hound seemed so… accepting. But that wasn’t a surprise was it? No matter what this world threw at the tracker he just seemed to shrug it off.
“But why? Why sing about bad weather and fire… neither is very pleasant.” Of course he could ask Teletraan one to compile a list of cultural references and suggested explanations. He would rather hear his partner’s thoughts about the matter though.
“The fire in that song was one of those they use to heat their homes with. And I guess, it’s a way to see the best in any situation? Let me play one for you! Blaster showed it to me some years back.” The tracker was frowning a little at him and Mirage tilted his head.
“You can show me. But first, what is worrying you?”
“I just realized that you have never been home for any of the Christmas parties. Or at least you haven’t participated in them, have you?” The frown had deepned a little and Mirage smiled. Of course Hound would be worried about that!
“I haven’t. Usually there have been missions, or shifts… or other things.” His voice dropped a little on the last part; tone just this side of suggestive. Last year’s party had been missed because they had had their own private party.
“Oh… right. Well, come here.” Hound got up and gallantly offered a hand that Mirage took even though he did not need help getting up. Together they walked to the sound system where Mirage watched while the tracker muttered his way through the lists of human music Blaster and Jazz had stocked it with.
“Here it is.” Following right on the words a melody filled the air.
‘I really can't stay - Baby it's cold outside
I've got to go away - Baby it's cold outside
This evening has been - Been hoping that you'd drop in
So very nice - I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice
...’
Mirage listened as the two voices played, paying attention to the actual words. Cold outside? It seemed like a love song, but it was also about a bad snow storm…
“The one I was quoting first, it’s also a love song you know… about not wanting to say goodbye to the one you love.” Hound purred playfully into his audio receptor, green arms sneaking about his waist. Mirage smiled a little and admitted, to himself at least, that maybe singing about bad weather was not such a bad thing…
Scene 3, prompt: Sitting by the fireplace - (casusfere)
“Nah, it's about romance,” Inferno continued trying to explain, happily oblivious to Red Alert's utter disinterest in human culture. “Two people takin' a break from bad weather and stayin' warm.” His engine gave a lecherous little rev at the last part.
Red Alert shook his head, ducking his head to hide his smile. “By interfacing, no doubt,” he said dryly, typing in the passcode to the security center.
Inferno laughed. “Hey now, you tryin' to suggest somethin', Red?” He gave Red Alert his best leer. “If you insist, I s'pose we could round us up a nice romantic fire to uh, 'keep warm' together.”
“Can you go five breems without thinking of interfacing?” Red Alert mock-grumbled, dropping into his chair and logging on to the system.
“Hey, you brought it up!” Inferno countered happily, following him in. “Can't be just me thinkin' of it.” He leaned against the back of Red Alert's chair, fingertips brushing against a tire.
“Would you let me work?” the security director growled.
“What if I don't wantcha workin'?” Inferno gave the tire a playful pinch, making Red Alert jump and swat at his hand.
“Some of us have work to do,” Red Alert huffed.
“Aw Red, your shift's been over for-”
“Don't 'Aw Red' me. I still have work to do,” Red Alert interrupted, trying to forestall an entirely too-logical argument. His shift ended before Inferno had managed to drag him down to the rec room, and he didn't have any duties that couldn't wait for the next day - but now that he'd thought about there being a fire, he wasn't going to be able to relax until he double-checked. It was stupid and it was frustrating; he knew that Hound had been making a culture reference, he knew it was some silly human song, but the idea wouldn't leave him alone until he made absolutely sure.
“Hey,” Inferno said softly, rubbing a hand across his tire. “You're tensin' up.”
Red Alert blew air out his exhaust, slouching and letting his head thump back against Inferno's chest. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
Inferno's hand kept moving in soothing circles against his tire. “It's okay, Red. Finish whatcha need and then we can see 'bout findin' us a nice fire to cozy up by.”
Red Alert smiled. “Who needs a fire? I have a firetruck.”
The warm laughter from behind him was better than any fire.
On to scenes 4-6... (hosted on redxinferno)
...and scenes 7-8 (hosted on houndxmirage)
A/N #2: we realised belatedly that the houndxmirage community is locked to members only, so here are the scenes posted there.
Scene 7, prompt: frostbite (taralynden)
Prowl had been in the command centre for almost an hour before he heard the noise of someone approaching. It was not a concern - with such a small crew on site there was no need to keep mechs occupied, nor to fear what they might get up to if not kept that way - but it was unusual. It was a rare day when he reached Teletran for the morning report ahead of Red Alert, and an even rarer one when he had filed his analysis report before the other mech arrived.
He supposed he should take it as a good sign that the security director had relaxed enough to allow such a change in routine, but this morning he had hoped for a quiet discussion before others were up and about.
“You’re later than I thought you would be.” he commented as Red Alert hurried in and downloaded the report, followed more sedately by Inferno.
“He’s not late for his shift.” the larger mech defended his mate. “Yours hasn’t started either, according to the timetable.”
Prowl looked at him calmly, calculating the likelihood that Inferno would leave of his own accord and deciding that the probabilities were not high. A diversion was required. He focused on where Red Alert had settled into the chair in front of the comms station and was running a routine diagnostic.
“The weather outside has worsened - it seems our mail delivery will not likely be made today.”
“Don’t be so sure.” Red Alert warned. “It was worse than this two years ago when that idiot postman got here and had to be flown to hospital with that illness where his derma was dying. Idiot kept muttering something about the mail getting through fog and ice and something else.”
“Frostbite.” Inferno recalled.
“That’s it. Silly name. Frost is a way to describe meteorological conditions, it has no mouth so how can it bite?”
Prowl grimaced, refusing to let his processor even begin to work on that statement or he would crash without achieving anything.
“Indeed. Perhaps, then, we should take some measures to ensure we do not end up in a similar predicament this year. Particularly since there are no flier models among us.”
“You want me to go check if he’s on his way?” Inferno asked.
Prowl nearly smiled. Wonderful, predictable, helpful Inferno.
“That may be wise.” he nodded. “And perhaps leave a notice at the turn-off at the main road; I’m sure whatever mail is intended for us can wait until the storm has passed. I would recommend taking Hound with you in case you lose the road through poor visibility. And perhaps Jazz should go as well.”
“He’s no scout.” Red Alert looked up at him, beginning to show the first hints of suspicion.
“No, but judging by the weather forecast it may be the last opportunity to go out for some time, and he does tend to get restless when cooped up.” Prowl responded.
“Sure thing. Don’t worry, Red, we won’t be long.”
“Be safe.” Red Alert warned.
“We will.”
Inferno headed out, and Red Alert continued staring at Prowl.
“So? What’s all this about?”
“I needed to speak with you uninterrupted.”
The security director folded his arms.
“You could have just set a meeting. This is unofficial?”
“Most definitely.”
“And it involves Mirage?”
“No. What makes you think that?”
“Sending Inferno off with Hound. I hardly think Mirage will choose to join them out in the worst of the weather.”
“That was a practical decision: it is unwise for anyone to go out in such weather alone, and Hound is the most capable in the circumstances.”
“And if Jazz doesn’t go?”
“I will know if he approaches and we can change the topic.”
“Alright, so what is this unofficial scheme of yours that you need my help with?”
“I want to organise a Christmas party.”
He could tell right away that this was going to be a hard sell.
Scene 8, prompt: Ornaments (Xobit)
“Really, Hound?” Mirage watched his lover with skeptical optics, which soon dropped to the big box the other had hauled out from under his berth.
“Really, Mirage.” The tracker didn’t seem the least bit perturbed that the noble was less than enthusiastic about his idea. Deft hands pulled the lid off the box and Mirage had to keep in a sound of appreciation. these were not the things he had seen hanging about the Ark in general in the aftermath of ‘Christmas’ the other years here on earth.
“I don’t really have a lot, I collect a bit every year… see this?” The tracker held up a clear box that held four absolutely gorgeous fragile looking glass balls, in his own colors. Mirage was instantly flattered knowing all too well why those colors had been chosen.
“They are this year’s haul. And I don’t intend to have us decorate the entire ark either… I would prefer to keep these to our quarters, really… they would never survive the twins. Or Cliffjumper.” Too right! If all of it was this fragile and beautiful… they wouldn’t last an ordinary day in the Ark’s volatile environment.
“Well… okay then, I’ll help yo…”He broke off when Hound held up a hand, blue optics going distant. The tracker’s dermas tinned a little with disappointment and he gently put the clear box back in the big box before standing.
“Thank you, love, but it will have to wait. We’re going to make sure that no humans are trying to reach us in this weather.” Mirage frowned but accepted the chaste kiss he got and watched the other mech go. That was odd to say the least… what was going on?
He decided to go find Prowl or Red Alert to get an answer. It was easy enough to locate both and they seemed deep in discussion… politely spoken.
“I am not helping you create madness!” Red Alert was looking about to fritz, stubborn and angry. Prowl looked resigned but determined.
“It is simply a party. It would make Inferno happy, Jazz would be happy… is that not worth a relatively small sacrifice?” Had he been asked last night Mirage would probably have taken Red Alert’s side…
But there were those ornaments and the expression on Hound’s face plates…
“Arhm?” Politely making himself know to them, dropping the mod he hardly thought about having turned on, he smiled at them both.
“If I may have a say in the discussion… I believe that we can make a party that is less… flamboyant than the usual ones held here are. After all we want to be a little more intimate, right?” Pausing he raise an optical ridge at them, waiting to see what would happen.
To be continued ^_^
Edit: 2nd half finally posted June 2012!