Title: Untitled pt 2- See author’s note
Writer: Left_eye_better
Rating: PG, mech blood?
Characters: Jazz, and Lockdown
Prompt: Jazz/Lockdown- catching a shadow
Warning: See rating, besides that, Unbeta’d
Word Count: 825
Continuity: Animated with a reference to the G1 comics
Disclaimer: Transformers © Hasbro/Takara/Dreamworks/whoever.
Their pedefalls echoes down the halls. Large pillars stood silent watchman as they passed. Their shadows were gradient in the low light cast from the alter that sat at the end of their path. Jazz had reached the shortened pillar that was alter first, the mismatched hunter joined him not even a full step behind. Around them, on other shortened pillars, holobusts floated, inanimate optics baring witness to the scene.
“I see you moved the old ghosts.” Lockdown looked from helm to helm, identifying each.
“Not all of them are gone, LD.” Jazz reached forward taking the vibroknife from the alter. The edge of the blade hummed, and was lit with a self-illuminated glow.
“It’s not from lack of trying.” A grin curled up the black and white edges of the rogue’s mouth.
Their optics met in a subtle battle of wills. Jazz’s finger nimbly flipped the handle of the knife breaking the contest, his face holding a serious expression. Very slowing the smirk fell from Lockdown’s face, as a deep sense of dread welled in the bottoms of his tank.
Jazz rolled his left wrist before placing the blade against the join. It was held steady, before sinking between the plates and producing a slow stream of energon. Cycling air through his systems the Autobot held his dripped wrist over a small ornate cistern. His finger rolled the knife again, landing the blade’s end to be held by just his finger tips. He presented the handle to Lockdown. “To Symbolize the strength of our agreement, we each contribute a portion of our most precious element-”
“Bodily Substance,” Lockdown corrected in a growl as he snatched the black from the other mech with more of a display of force than was required.
“Our fuel.” Jazz watched as the knife drove into the yellow wrist, and how the fuel mixed with his in the vessel. The was no difference in color, no way to tell what energon had once powered the body of a traitor. It was a true oneness. “And left our Contributions mix and join as one.”
Lockdown’s fingers with a show of flair, created a blazing spark with a snap. It fell to the fuel where it ignited. “Now with this sacrifice, so shall our bond be sealed.” The bounty hunter’s expression was serious. One did not enter into this lightly and certainly not with any idea of side stepping on the deal. He wasn’t a Decepticon after all.
Jazz let his shoulders relax. It was done. He had Lockdown’s oath, for all that was worth. The black and white mech held his wrist as the energon line knitted together in a temporary patch. Collecting his thoughts, smile over at the other. “So guess it’s time ya meet the others.”
There was a small glimmer of confusion on the larger mech’s face. “Others?”
Looking like a turbofox, Jazz’s smile changed to have a slightly devious edge. “There are always others, LD.” It was at that moment that multiple sets of pedesteps became known, as several mechs came forward. “What? Did you think it was just going to me, little ol’ me, and little ol’ you?”
The mismatched mech sharply looked to Jazz before turning to face the small group of mech. He had a name for every face. Dai Atlas, Star Upper, Road Handler, and lumbering Grandus stood in a small semicircle. They were each a piece of their former master, and each held a piece of knowledge passed down. “This all you got?” The muscle car did not like surprises, especially well-armed one.
“This is all I could get.” Jazz looked to his fellow teachers. Over time they had lost students. He searched for the remaining. None of them had an obligation to comeback, and most of them didn’t. Dai Atlas came with his student Drift and had managed to convince Star Upper to return. Road Handler had been injured in a televised wrestling match and did not have the funds for the repair necessary to return, and without a job he had no means to support himself. Returning to the dojo offered him a home. Grandus… well, the mech always did think with his tank, and simple offer of room and board convinced the giant.
Lockdown. Jazz turned his optics on the mech beside him. Lockdown had potential. He was apart of the school of ninjitsu, with their master. There had been whispers at the time and as the slick black and white looked to the other’s he could tell those whispers were not forgotten. Lockdown had lacked the internal peace needed for full enlightenment then. Noting the tense posture, displaying the mech’s discomfort clearly than if the bounty hunter had stated it. His hand patted dark plating of the taller mech’s shoulder.
“I have a bad feeling about this.” Lockdown’s voice was gruff, but very clear to all present.
“Oh, You too?” Jazz chuckled as he let his hand drop.
_ - _ - _- _-
Author’s note: I’m still thinking about the title for this; ‘Devil’s Bargain’ is in the lead. I have certain points I’d like to hit if I continue with this idea, but anybody have thoughts about things they’d like to see? Please no “bring Prowl back from the dead” suggestions.
http://tf-rare-pairing.livejournal.com/258362.html