Fic- Untitled, Jazz/Lockdown, Weekly Response Fic
Title: Untitled - See author’s note
Writer: Left_eye_better
Rating: PG, for vaguely lewd comments
Characters: Jazz, and Lockdown
Prompt: Jazz/Lockdown- Catching a Shadow
Warning: See rating, besides that, Unbeta’d
Word Count: 869
Continuity: Animated with a reference to the G1 comics
Disclaimer: Transformers © Hasbro/Takara/Dreamworks/whoever.
*****
"Hey there, I remember you." Lockdown's oily grin spread wider across his faceplates. Jazz and Lockdown walked a slow circle around each other. Their optics were locked. Their frames tense as cybercobras preparing to strike. "Not everyday I run into one of the ol' master's favorites."
Jazz's expression completely serious, his mouth a grim line. The sound of his pedefalls was near silent as he continued the slow, careful pace. "You 'ave no right ta call him Master." His hand slipped back as if to retrieve his weapon.
"Ah, ah, ah, wouldn't go turning this into a fight if I was you." Lockdown hand converted to a chainsaw. "I've got all the tools in the box, and no problem with using them." The chain of the weapon slowly rotated. "Why don't you jus' run along, sweep the dojo floors, hang a 'Open for Business' sign. I'm sure that's what 'e would've wanted."
Grinding his dental plates in reaction to the rogue's word, Jazz stopped walking. He straightened his spinal struts and standing his full height. "You're right. It's what he would have wanted." His hands clenched and then hung loose by his sides as he found peace within himself. "I'm not here ta fight you, LD."
"Don' they all say that." The bounty hunter chuckled. "Unless it's business, turn 'round and walk back to yer ship. I have bigger fish to worry my little helm over." Taking the cue from Jazz he allowed his hand to revert back and with that hand he waved the other off.
"I'm not. I know what you did. I know, mech, but I'm looking for any mech that trained. Not many of us are left. We need everyone." Jazz's vocalizer was geared up ready to continue.
"I don't think I'd exactly count me as apart of us." Lockdown rumbled dangerously, his optics burning red set in his pale face.
"Beneath that black cover on yer chest is the mark of an Autobot," Jazz's shoulders squared. "Beneath that armor is an Autobot protoform, and you're runnin' on Autobot protocols, somewhere in there is the good mech the Yoketron had seen." He'd thought about this move. He'd tracked the hunter down, confronted him in the hopes that he could do what his master had failed at.
"Or the ol' codger was wrong." Lockdown wavered the black and white mech off once more before he started to walk off. There was something about the conversation that was making him uncomfortable. Reminding him of all the expectations that their Sensei had cast upon him, with a similar knowing look that could shake a mech down to their struts if they let it.
Moving to follow would mean that he lost. His pedes felt like someone had poured liqui-lead into his armor. He had to say something, anything to get the larger mech to stop. "I'll bet he wasn't."
Lockdown's pede touched the floor or the Cybertronian and Nebulan joint space stations floor kicking up a small amount of dusk. One of the corners of the mech's lips twitched up, and he looked over his shoulder. "Oh Really?" The patchwork mech was one that never took a bet he wasn't sure of it's outcome. "And what do you 'ave that could possibly interest me? Your nunchaku, ain't nothing compared to what I'm packing. All the creds in the Cybertonian sector couldn't get me to walk the straight and narrow. An offer at Redemption? Give my fuel tank a break it already wants to purge."
"Me, Myself, and I." The Elite guardsmech crossed the distance between them his blue optics looking to the other's face. "I'll bet mah soul and plating that if ya truly tried you'd be what I think you can be."
"I'd say Yoketron already took that bet and lost. You sure you want ta try it? I won't look down on ya if you back out now." Lockdown smirked down at Jazz, his confidence radiating.
"All bets are even. I win, I own you, spark and chassis." Jazz's voice was completely even. There was no mirth in his tone. The black and white ninja knew the consequences of this bet.
"If you win, I'll let you." No matter how serious it seemed hard for the green and black mech to drop his humor. They clasped hands. The sound of metal hitting metal resounded. "When do I get to inspect my winnings?" Lockdown's optics traveled over the mech's sleek form appraisingly.
"I could ask the same of you." Grabbing one of the spikes on the larger mech's neck, Jazz pulled him down to his optic level. "Handshakes are groovy, but I think I'm not going to take that alone to prove you'll hold yer end."
"Should I seal it with a kiss?" Lockdown's dental plating shown as he smiled from the side of his mouth.
"Nah, how 'bout the Rite of Oneness?" Their optics, now on the same level, locked once more. Jazz scrutinized the other's face at his suggestion, looking for any trace of a flinch.
"Old school, aren't you?" The bounty hunter's expression fell from his conniving jeer to a more flatly serious approach.
" 'Bout all that I am? I'm real Old school."
*****
Author’s Note: I couldn’t think of a good title for this thing. Anyone who wishes to submit I title in the comments for consideration would be awesome, and you all want to be awesome right?
Writer: Left_eye_better
Rating: PG, for vaguely lewd comments
Characters: Jazz, and Lockdown
Prompt: Jazz/Lockdown- Catching a Shadow
Warning: See rating, besides that, Unbeta’d
Word Count: 869
Continuity: Animated with a reference to the G1 comics
Disclaimer: Transformers © Hasbro/Takara/Dreamworks/whoever.
*****
"Hey there, I remember you." Lockdown's oily grin spread wider across his faceplates. Jazz and Lockdown walked a slow circle around each other. Their optics were locked. Their frames tense as cybercobras preparing to strike. "Not everyday I run into one of the ol' master's favorites."
Jazz's expression completely serious, his mouth a grim line. The sound of his pedefalls was near silent as he continued the slow, careful pace. "You 'ave no right ta call him Master." His hand slipped back as if to retrieve his weapon.
"Ah, ah, ah, wouldn't go turning this into a fight if I was you." Lockdown hand converted to a chainsaw. "I've got all the tools in the box, and no problem with using them." The chain of the weapon slowly rotated. "Why don't you jus' run along, sweep the dojo floors, hang a 'Open for Business' sign. I'm sure that's what 'e would've wanted."
Grinding his dental plates in reaction to the rogue's word, Jazz stopped walking. He straightened his spinal struts and standing his full height. "You're right. It's what he would have wanted." His hands clenched and then hung loose by his sides as he found peace within himself. "I'm not here ta fight you, LD."
"Don' they all say that." The bounty hunter chuckled. "Unless it's business, turn 'round and walk back to yer ship. I have bigger fish to worry my little helm over." Taking the cue from Jazz he allowed his hand to revert back and with that hand he waved the other off.
"I'm not. I know what you did. I know, mech, but I'm looking for any mech that trained. Not many of us are left. We need everyone." Jazz's vocalizer was geared up ready to continue.
"I don't think I'd exactly count me as apart of us." Lockdown rumbled dangerously, his optics burning red set in his pale face.
"Beneath that black cover on yer chest is the mark of an Autobot," Jazz's shoulders squared. "Beneath that armor is an Autobot protoform, and you're runnin' on Autobot protocols, somewhere in there is the good mech the Yoketron had seen." He'd thought about this move. He'd tracked the hunter down, confronted him in the hopes that he could do what his master had failed at.
"Or the ol' codger was wrong." Lockdown wavered the black and white mech off once more before he started to walk off. There was something about the conversation that was making him uncomfortable. Reminding him of all the expectations that their Sensei had cast upon him, with a similar knowing look that could shake a mech down to their struts if they let it.
Moving to follow would mean that he lost. His pedes felt like someone had poured liqui-lead into his armor. He had to say something, anything to get the larger mech to stop. "I'll bet he wasn't."
Lockdown's pede touched the floor or the Cybertronian and Nebulan joint space stations floor kicking up a small amount of dusk. One of the corners of the mech's lips twitched up, and he looked over his shoulder. "Oh Really?" The patchwork mech was one that never took a bet he wasn't sure of it's outcome. "And what do you 'ave that could possibly interest me? Your nunchaku, ain't nothing compared to what I'm packing. All the creds in the Cybertonian sector couldn't get me to walk the straight and narrow. An offer at Redemption? Give my fuel tank a break it already wants to purge."
"Me, Myself, and I." The Elite guardsmech crossed the distance between them his blue optics looking to the other's face. "I'll bet mah soul and plating that if ya truly tried you'd be what I think you can be."
"I'd say Yoketron already took that bet and lost. You sure you want ta try it? I won't look down on ya if you back out now." Lockdown smirked down at Jazz, his confidence radiating.
"All bets are even. I win, I own you, spark and chassis." Jazz's voice was completely even. There was no mirth in his tone. The black and white ninja knew the consequences of this bet.
"If you win, I'll let you." No matter how serious it seemed hard for the green and black mech to drop his humor. They clasped hands. The sound of metal hitting metal resounded. "When do I get to inspect my winnings?" Lockdown's optics traveled over the mech's sleek form appraisingly.
"I could ask the same of you." Grabbing one of the spikes on the larger mech's neck, Jazz pulled him down to his optic level. "Handshakes are groovy, but I think I'm not going to take that alone to prove you'll hold yer end."
"Should I seal it with a kiss?" Lockdown's dental plating shown as he smiled from the side of his mouth.
"Nah, how 'bout the Rite of Oneness?" Their optics, now on the same level, locked once more. Jazz scrutinized the other's face at his suggestion, looking for any trace of a flinch.
"Old school, aren't you?" The bounty hunter's expression fell from his conniving jeer to a more flatly serious approach.
" 'Bout all that I am? I'm real Old school."
*****
Author’s Note: I couldn’t think of a good title for this thing. Anyone who wishes to submit I title in the comments for consideration would be awesome, and you all want to be awesome right?