Foreign Affairs
Summary: Summary: Optimus comes up with a unique way of resolving political conflicts. Prowl and Jazz enthusiastically follow suit.
For the Anniversary Challenge at http://prowlxjazz.livejournal.com/
Prompt: Foreign Affairs
It was ridiculous, and Ratchet made sure to let every patient know it in loud and forceful terms.
“Prowl, you of all bots should know better than anyone, this is supposed to be a diplomatic conference, not a dating service!”
“Optimus did set an… interesting example,” Prowl replied calmly.
“Optimus! Optimus is a naïve, self-sacrificing, impulsive, foolish do-gooder! I expected everyone else to be able to control themselves! We’re lucky that there aren’t riots in the streets!”
“As I recall, riots in the streets is what created the need for this conference.”
“Don’t you sass me Prowl,” Ratchet snarled, glaring over the top of his datapad. Prowl’s doorwings fluttered and Ratchet shoved the datapad at him. “You’re fine. Review this and get out of here before I lose my temper.”
Prowl dutifully plugged in and downloaded the small packet of data, although Ratchet had no doubt that the cautious and thorough analyst had already reviewed and read extensively on the subject before committing this foolish act.
Ratchet sensed the door open behind him and turned with a snarl. It was that sorry excuse for a medic, Hook. Optimus and Megatron had probably arrived. In the beginning Megatron and his retinue would have shot him before letting him near with so much as a surface scan, but if nothing else the… incidents had created trust among the delegates. With his superior training and experience he was now the unofficial Head Medic for the conference, and Megatron and Optimus were scheduled for a checkup after Jazz and Prowl’s.
Turning back to his current patient he accepted his datapad back and dismissed Prowl gruffly. The black and white mech slipped out of the room as unobtrusively as Optimus and Megatron were obtrusively entering it. Not that they were doing that on purpose, but they were two large, heavy duty frames, with enough charisma put together that you could feel it when they entered a room, even with most of your sensors turned off.
“Do you two have any idea what you’ve set off? Five bondings in as many days. Five!” Ratchet exclaimed as he roughly gestured them over to the med berth. “If anybot gets ensparked, I’m blaming you.”
Megatron’s engine grumbled, but Optimus practically shone with innocence, and Ratchet eyed him suspiciously. “Hopefully you will accept your suitor’s offer soon and there will be six new bonds in as many days,” Optimus said.
The door of the exam room slid closed behind Prowl, keeping him from hearing Ratchet’s response.
“Prowl!” a black and white blur jumped at him and with a loud clang clutched him tight to a boxy, very shiny form. Prowl’s spark pulsed when they touched and he wound his arms around him, returning the almost desperate embrace.
“Prowler ya were in there fer so long. Yer already scaring me half ta death.”
Prowl opened his mouth-
“Yeah, yeah, Ahm exageratin’ Prowler.”
“I can feel you now. If you’re ever truly frightened I’ll do everything to come to you.”
“Prowler ya romantic. I’d return tha favor.” He pulled back slightly and was graced with the sight of a gentle smile. Two full lips curved below a rounded nose sloping underneath a curving visor casting a soft blue tint on beloved features that he had had memorized since the end of the first day of the conference, but he still wanted to spend every moment mapping out. Every dip and scratch scanned and analyzed, every bump and worn seam graphed. Prowl scanned systematically for any changes and noted a trace of foreign color nanites on pale gray lips, no doubt transferred there when they had kissed this morning, and Prowl moaned low and leaned in to add more.
Jazz hummed against his lips, sound waves almost imperceptibly vibrating metal against metal. “Want ya Prowler. Wanted ya since ah first saw ya. Want ta come home to ya, argue ‘bout furniture and sparkling names…” Jazz trailed off and Prowl picked up, “Decide on an apartment and who should carry the sparklings-”
“Oh for Primus sake!” A raspy, irritable voice startled Prowl, and he almost jerked away in startled embarrassment. Jazz sensed this and clutched him tighter.
“There is only so much mushiness a bot can take before it starts to build up and obstruct things,” the very… unique voice continued. “Love is in the air alright, love is clogging up my vents!”
“Lord Starscream, Consort Skyfire,” Prowl greeted the irritable seeker and his large white shadow.
“What brings ya ta tha humble medics?” Jazz turned to face them, remaining in contact with Prowl, who in turn kept his arms wrapped around him.
“Humble? Hah!” Starscream scoffed.
Skyfire diffidently settled a hand on Starscream’s shoulder. It enveloped both his shoulder and half of his arm as well. “Starscream’s energy has been abnormally low for the past several days.”
Prowl, recollecting some rather persuasive and enthusiastic rants from the last few days, complete with pacing, energetic gestures and Starscream occasionally lifting off the ground all together, analyzed that statement as being rather unlikely. Jazz, apparently following the same thought process, chuckled, “Mech, if that’s you low on energy I’d hate ta see ya overcharged.”
Starscream sneered and stalked past them to regally settle onto one of the waiting chairs. Skyfire leaned in to whisper, “He’s very nervous. We’ve always wanted sparkling’s but he’s worried he won’t be able to spend enough time with them or be a good carrier.”
“Skyfire!” Starscream screeched, “Don’t get your hopes up! The symptoms fit any number of ailments, not just carrying.”
Skyfire nodded, “Of course, Starscream,” then turned and shared a radiant smile with Prowl and Jazz. Some mechs had taken to calling the conference Primus blessed, and while Prowl was not usually one to believe in outright interference from Primus, with the sheer odds against everything that had happened so far, he was inclined to agree. Prowl would be surprised if Starscream wasn’t ensparked.
Cybertron, and the future of the Transformer race as a whole had been in dire straits in almost every calculation Prowl had run before the conference, but now, there was a lot of hard work ahead of them, but now the analysis were favoring much more palatable outcomes.
Over the Golden Age, the government and culture had slowly grown stagnant. The council, founded to assist the Prime with his duties, had grown more and more corrupt, and the Primes less and less powerful. Castes became frozen, those in wealthy professions ordered sparklings from Vector Sigma specifically created to follow them into their position, those bots in poor functions created sparklings who were unable to change to a different function. Resentment grew as bots were forced into functions that they were ill suited for and the rich grew richer even as Cybertron’s resources began depleting due to careless and inefficient practices.
Energon shortages spread, and with them a vicious under society full of desperate bots willing to do anything to survive, and the bots willing to exploit them. Riots and energon starvation became commonplace in some areas as others teetered into greater and greater extravagance even as the streets clogged with refugees and beggars.
Those in the richer cities blinded their sensors to the growing troubles, even as Kaon’s upper class was overthrown by a charismatic gladiator and his desperate followers. It took the assassination of Sentinel Prime, and the unplanned and uncontrolled choosing of Optimus Prime. The first assassination of a Prime, and the first Prime to be chosen solely by the Matrix in generations stirred the council as the suffering of the people did not. Optimus demanded his powers as Prime to negotiate with the leaders of the cities, and they, not without some fighting, agreed.
On the first day of the conference, with the rulers and advisors of every city state- that in itself a minor miracle- Optimus announced his proposals for dealing with the energy crisis, the scarcity of various resources, and the social unrest. On the second day of the conference Optimus and Megatron, the leader or catalyst for much of the organized unrest across Cybertron, announced their intent to bond. Ratchet then loudly berated them for already bonding the night before.
Embarrassed but unapologetic, they announced that their unity and determination had doubled. Many of the rulers then fell in behind their unification and determination. Including, to Prowl’s surprise, a lowly military advisor from Praxus and a beautiful, energetic, unique, stubborn, ambassador from Tyger Pax. Jazz twisted around to look at him again, “Thinking about me?” he grinned.
“Always.”
“Hm… always know just what ta say, doncha?”
“Let’s get back to your quarters. I want to know your spark in all ways.”
“Mm, Ahm gonna drive ya crazy.”
“I agree.”
“Love ya.”
“I love you.”
For the Anniversary Challenge at http://prowlxjazz.livejournal.com/
Prompt: Foreign Affairs
It was ridiculous, and Ratchet made sure to let every patient know it in loud and forceful terms.
“Prowl, you of all bots should know better than anyone, this is supposed to be a diplomatic conference, not a dating service!”
“Optimus did set an… interesting example,” Prowl replied calmly.
“Optimus! Optimus is a naïve, self-sacrificing, impulsive, foolish do-gooder! I expected everyone else to be able to control themselves! We’re lucky that there aren’t riots in the streets!”
“As I recall, riots in the streets is what created the need for this conference.”
“Don’t you sass me Prowl,” Ratchet snarled, glaring over the top of his datapad. Prowl’s doorwings fluttered and Ratchet shoved the datapad at him. “You’re fine. Review this and get out of here before I lose my temper.”
Prowl dutifully plugged in and downloaded the small packet of data, although Ratchet had no doubt that the cautious and thorough analyst had already reviewed and read extensively on the subject before committing this foolish act.
Ratchet sensed the door open behind him and turned with a snarl. It was that sorry excuse for a medic, Hook. Optimus and Megatron had probably arrived. In the beginning Megatron and his retinue would have shot him before letting him near with so much as a surface scan, but if nothing else the… incidents had created trust among the delegates. With his superior training and experience he was now the unofficial Head Medic for the conference, and Megatron and Optimus were scheduled for a checkup after Jazz and Prowl’s.
Turning back to his current patient he accepted his datapad back and dismissed Prowl gruffly. The black and white mech slipped out of the room as unobtrusively as Optimus and Megatron were obtrusively entering it. Not that they were doing that on purpose, but they were two large, heavy duty frames, with enough charisma put together that you could feel it when they entered a room, even with most of your sensors turned off.
“Do you two have any idea what you’ve set off? Five bondings in as many days. Five!” Ratchet exclaimed as he roughly gestured them over to the med berth. “If anybot gets ensparked, I’m blaming you.”
Megatron’s engine grumbled, but Optimus practically shone with innocence, and Ratchet eyed him suspiciously. “Hopefully you will accept your suitor’s offer soon and there will be six new bonds in as many days,” Optimus said.
The door of the exam room slid closed behind Prowl, keeping him from hearing Ratchet’s response.
“Prowl!” a black and white blur jumped at him and with a loud clang clutched him tight to a boxy, very shiny form. Prowl’s spark pulsed when they touched and he wound his arms around him, returning the almost desperate embrace.
“Prowler ya were in there fer so long. Yer already scaring me half ta death.”
Prowl opened his mouth-
“Yeah, yeah, Ahm exageratin’ Prowler.”
“I can feel you now. If you’re ever truly frightened I’ll do everything to come to you.”
“Prowler ya romantic. I’d return tha favor.” He pulled back slightly and was graced with the sight of a gentle smile. Two full lips curved below a rounded nose sloping underneath a curving visor casting a soft blue tint on beloved features that he had had memorized since the end of the first day of the conference, but he still wanted to spend every moment mapping out. Every dip and scratch scanned and analyzed, every bump and worn seam graphed. Prowl scanned systematically for any changes and noted a trace of foreign color nanites on pale gray lips, no doubt transferred there when they had kissed this morning, and Prowl moaned low and leaned in to add more.
Jazz hummed against his lips, sound waves almost imperceptibly vibrating metal against metal. “Want ya Prowler. Wanted ya since ah first saw ya. Want ta come home to ya, argue ‘bout furniture and sparkling names…” Jazz trailed off and Prowl picked up, “Decide on an apartment and who should carry the sparklings-”
“Oh for Primus sake!” A raspy, irritable voice startled Prowl, and he almost jerked away in startled embarrassment. Jazz sensed this and clutched him tighter.
“There is only so much mushiness a bot can take before it starts to build up and obstruct things,” the very… unique voice continued. “Love is in the air alright, love is clogging up my vents!”
“Lord Starscream, Consort Skyfire,” Prowl greeted the irritable seeker and his large white shadow.
“What brings ya ta tha humble medics?” Jazz turned to face them, remaining in contact with Prowl, who in turn kept his arms wrapped around him.
“Humble? Hah!” Starscream scoffed.
Skyfire diffidently settled a hand on Starscream’s shoulder. It enveloped both his shoulder and half of his arm as well. “Starscream’s energy has been abnormally low for the past several days.”
Prowl, recollecting some rather persuasive and enthusiastic rants from the last few days, complete with pacing, energetic gestures and Starscream occasionally lifting off the ground all together, analyzed that statement as being rather unlikely. Jazz, apparently following the same thought process, chuckled, “Mech, if that’s you low on energy I’d hate ta see ya overcharged.”
Starscream sneered and stalked past them to regally settle onto one of the waiting chairs. Skyfire leaned in to whisper, “He’s very nervous. We’ve always wanted sparkling’s but he’s worried he won’t be able to spend enough time with them or be a good carrier.”
“Skyfire!” Starscream screeched, “Don’t get your hopes up! The symptoms fit any number of ailments, not just carrying.”
Skyfire nodded, “Of course, Starscream,” then turned and shared a radiant smile with Prowl and Jazz. Some mechs had taken to calling the conference Primus blessed, and while Prowl was not usually one to believe in outright interference from Primus, with the sheer odds against everything that had happened so far, he was inclined to agree. Prowl would be surprised if Starscream wasn’t ensparked.
Cybertron, and the future of the Transformer race as a whole had been in dire straits in almost every calculation Prowl had run before the conference, but now, there was a lot of hard work ahead of them, but now the analysis were favoring much more palatable outcomes.
Over the Golden Age, the government and culture had slowly grown stagnant. The council, founded to assist the Prime with his duties, had grown more and more corrupt, and the Primes less and less powerful. Castes became frozen, those in wealthy professions ordered sparklings from Vector Sigma specifically created to follow them into their position, those bots in poor functions created sparklings who were unable to change to a different function. Resentment grew as bots were forced into functions that they were ill suited for and the rich grew richer even as Cybertron’s resources began depleting due to careless and inefficient practices.
Energon shortages spread, and with them a vicious under society full of desperate bots willing to do anything to survive, and the bots willing to exploit them. Riots and energon starvation became commonplace in some areas as others teetered into greater and greater extravagance even as the streets clogged with refugees and beggars.
Those in the richer cities blinded their sensors to the growing troubles, even as Kaon’s upper class was overthrown by a charismatic gladiator and his desperate followers. It took the assassination of Sentinel Prime, and the unplanned and uncontrolled choosing of Optimus Prime. The first assassination of a Prime, and the first Prime to be chosen solely by the Matrix in generations stirred the council as the suffering of the people did not. Optimus demanded his powers as Prime to negotiate with the leaders of the cities, and they, not without some fighting, agreed.
On the first day of the conference, with the rulers and advisors of every city state- that in itself a minor miracle- Optimus announced his proposals for dealing with the energy crisis, the scarcity of various resources, and the social unrest. On the second day of the conference Optimus and Megatron, the leader or catalyst for much of the organized unrest across Cybertron, announced their intent to bond. Ratchet then loudly berated them for already bonding the night before.
Embarrassed but unapologetic, they announced that their unity and determination had doubled. Many of the rulers then fell in behind their unification and determination. Including, to Prowl’s surprise, a lowly military advisor from Praxus and a beautiful, energetic, unique, stubborn, ambassador from Tyger Pax. Jazz twisted around to look at him again, “Thinking about me?” he grinned.
“Always.”
“Hm… always know just what ta say, doncha?”
“Let’s get back to your quarters. I want to know your spark in all ways.”
“Mm, Ahm gonna drive ya crazy.”
“I agree.”
“Love ya.”
“I love you.”