Fantasy Interruptus
Title: Fantasy Interruptus
Author: AotA
Rating: K+
Warnings: None
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, mentions of Sentinel, Optimus
Setting: AU TFA, Uncoiling-verse
Summary: Prowl wants to daydream. No one wants to let him.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers.
Notes: Written for Prompt #6 “Task: A Flashback” October 23, 2010, off of tf_speedwriting . I took 39 minutes. This is in the same scheme as Uncoiling.
Prowl prowled outside the Magnus’ office, waiting for Sentinel to finish his meeting.
Prowl always found it odd to think of Optimus as Magnus, and it was even odder to watch Sentinel and Optimus awkwardly tiptoe around one another. Jazz just laughed at them both. It was also odd to work with Jazz when the cheerful ninja was in many ways Prowl’s polar opposite, in color and manner.
Prowl sighed, remembering just how strange it had been when he had returned to Cybertron to find himself following Sentinel into the Elite Guard. Absently, he gingerly touched the still new wings that adorned his Autobrand. He smirked, remembering the attention that it had gotten after he had first received it.
His smirk broadened as recalled each moment, but he was snapped out of his happy place when a white palm waved in front of his visor. The smirk shattered and Prowl glowered at Jazz.
“You okay mech? You looked like you ah… at a canary… or something like that.” Jazz grinned at him.
Prowl knew that Jazz knew very well that he had been fine. “I am fine. The saying is the cat ate the canary.” He concentrated an aura of go away and sent it Jazz’s way.
Jazz grin brightened, “Thanks mech! I’ve been trying to remember that one for ages!”
He didn’t budge and Prowl intensified his unfriendly vibes to no effect.
“So… Waiting for Sentinel?” Jazz asked, pretending to ignore Prowl’s icy countenance.
“Yes.”
“I’m waiting for Optimus to wrap up myself. I think that it’s kind of stupid that I’m supposed to be his guard, but I can’t actually guard him when I should. Like now.”
“Mmmhmmm?” Prowl began to tune out Jazz’s voice once more and return to his happy place when the conference room door slammed open and a variety of angry mechs stormed out, rudely ejecting him from his dream land.
This time, it was Prowl’s I am pissed aura of doom that rolled down the corridor like a physical force that hit the mechs, and they didn’t have the training that Jazz had to ignore it. Even Jazz was looking a teensy bit nervous.
“Ah… Prowl?” Jazz posed a bit delicately, “I think that Sentinel is done with the meeting now. You can ignore these idiots.”
Prowl’s glowering didn’t stop, but his gave a solemn glance about the corridor before he slipped into the room that the gaggle of mechs had just vacated, door closing behind him.
Everyone let out a sigh of relief.
“Be more careful,” Jazz warned the mechs, “I heard that Sentinel got him to join the Elite Guard by impressing him by surviving countless of his attacks without rest, for hundreds of megacycles.”
The mech’s optics widened and they stared at the closed door.
“Thank you for telling us,” one stuttered, and they all practically scrambled over themselves to get away.
Jazz grinned. His work was done here.
Author: AotA
Rating: K+
Warnings: None
Characters: Prowl, Jazz, mentions of Sentinel, Optimus
Setting: AU TFA, Uncoiling-verse
Summary: Prowl wants to daydream. No one wants to let him.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers.
Notes: Written for Prompt #6 “Task: A Flashback” October 23, 2010, off of tf_speedwriting . I took 39 minutes. This is in the same scheme as Uncoiling.
Prowl prowled outside the Magnus’ office, waiting for Sentinel to finish his meeting.
Prowl always found it odd to think of Optimus as Magnus, and it was even odder to watch Sentinel and Optimus awkwardly tiptoe around one another. Jazz just laughed at them both. It was also odd to work with Jazz when the cheerful ninja was in many ways Prowl’s polar opposite, in color and manner.
Prowl sighed, remembering just how strange it had been when he had returned to Cybertron to find himself following Sentinel into the Elite Guard. Absently, he gingerly touched the still new wings that adorned his Autobrand. He smirked, remembering the attention that it had gotten after he had first received it.
His smirk broadened as recalled each moment, but he was snapped out of his happy place when a white palm waved in front of his visor. The smirk shattered and Prowl glowered at Jazz.
“You okay mech? You looked like you ah… at a canary… or something like that.” Jazz grinned at him.
Prowl knew that Jazz knew very well that he had been fine. “I am fine. The saying is the cat ate the canary.” He concentrated an aura of go away and sent it Jazz’s way.
Jazz grin brightened, “Thanks mech! I’ve been trying to remember that one for ages!”
He didn’t budge and Prowl intensified his unfriendly vibes to no effect.
“So… Waiting for Sentinel?” Jazz asked, pretending to ignore Prowl’s icy countenance.
“Yes.”
“I’m waiting for Optimus to wrap up myself. I think that it’s kind of stupid that I’m supposed to be his guard, but I can’t actually guard him when I should. Like now.”
“Mmmhmmm?” Prowl began to tune out Jazz’s voice once more and return to his happy place when the conference room door slammed open and a variety of angry mechs stormed out, rudely ejecting him from his dream land.
This time, it was Prowl’s I am pissed aura of doom that rolled down the corridor like a physical force that hit the mechs, and they didn’t have the training that Jazz had to ignore it. Even Jazz was looking a teensy bit nervous.
“Ah… Prowl?” Jazz posed a bit delicately, “I think that Sentinel is done with the meeting now. You can ignore these idiots.”
Prowl’s glowering didn’t stop, but his gave a solemn glance about the corridor before he slipped into the room that the gaggle of mechs had just vacated, door closing behind him.
Everyone let out a sigh of relief.
“Be more careful,” Jazz warned the mechs, “I heard that Sentinel got him to join the Elite Guard by impressing him by surviving countless of his attacks without rest, for hundreds of megacycles.”
The mech’s optics widened and they stared at the closed door.
“Thank you for telling us,” one stuttered, and they all practically scrambled over themselves to get away.
Jazz grinned. His work was done here.