TF: Working Side by Side
Rating: PG-13
Series: G1
Summary: What really goes on between the Autobots senior officers?
Warnings: Language?
Disclaimer: As per usual, the good things in life are not mine to have, but belong to someone else... in this case Hasbro, Takara and IDW and anyone else I’ve forgotten…
Authors Notes: For the tf_speedwriting Wednesday, 14th July prompt 1 - Scenario - two characters from the same faction hate each other, how did they meet?
Feedback makes friends. Flames dealt with by the masters of paranoia and fire, Red Alert and Inferno.
Prompt: 1
Time: 25 minutes
It wasn’t a well known fact that Prowl and Jazz just didn’t get on. In fact, very few mechs realised that they hated one another. They never showed it in their interactions with one another; both utterly professional. Even Prime didn’t know that his two most senior officers hated one another with a passion that was normally reserved for hating Decepticons.
It had been years ago that the two had first met, way before Megatron even thought of forming the Decepticons. Way before there were factions. Back in the Golden Age of Cybertron where mechs lived peacefully with one another. Or they did most of the time.
“I can’t believe ya fragging did that!”
“Did what? It was your fault!” Two black and white mechs shoved and argued their way down an empty street, most mechs taking one look at the way they snapped and snarled at one another and decided they had somewhere else they needed to be.
“If you hadn’t opened your mouth.”
“If you’d actually used that processor of yours!”
“Frag you.”
“How mature of you sparkling.”
“Frag you!” More vehemence this time. “I never want ta see ya again. An’ if I do, I’m gonna make yer life a living misery.” With that promise, one of the black and whites turned on his heel and stalked away from the other.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“Will you stop that?” Prowl ground out. He and Jazz were sitting in the briefing room, going over the latest battle plans. Jazz was tapping his stylus against the table as he read the information on his datapad.
“Huh?” He looked up as Prowl growled, smirking at the tactician before carefully placing the stylus on the desk and shooting Prowl an entirely unapologetic smile. “Sorry.”
Prowl shook his head and refocused his attention on his own datapad. If only he’d never walked into that bar. If only he’d never let Jazz buy him that drink. Then they would have never gotten into that mess that resulted in them lying and forcing their way out of a bar and being chased by a gang of overcharged mechs twice their size intent on revenge. Oh sure, they’d worked together just fine then. And of course, they worked well together now. Even with the animosity between the two of them.
“Stop it!” Prowl slammed his datapad down on the table and glared at Jazz who paused in the middle of tapping his fingers against the table.
“What?” All innocence, but Prowl could see the glint in those optics hidden by that visor.
“Just don’t make any noise. I’m trying to concentrate.” Jazz just shrugged.
“Noise helps me concentrate.”
“Fragger.”
“Yup, an’ the same ta you.” Jazz deliberately ignored Prowl and picked up another datapad. If only he hadn’t bought the mech a drink. If only he hadn’t agreed to join that card game. If only Prowl hadn’t stood behind him, optics bright with the beginnings of overcharge, tapping out the cards he should exchange. If he was forced to admit it, he would say that Prowl was the reason they’d won so many credits that night. And of course, he was the reason they’d been accused of cheating and run out of the bar. The kiss he’d bestowed on Prowl to convince the mechs that they were just lovers didn’t go down all that well either.
They spent the next few minutes in silence, each engrossed in their reading. The air was thick with the tension between the two. Suddenly, Jazz groaned, leaning forward and getting Prowl’s attention. He pointed something out on the datapad he passed to the tactician and Prowl nodded.
They worked well together.
Even if they hated each other’s sparks.