for the december challenge at prowlxjazz
the paramaters of the challenge can be found here.
Title: Where There is Hatred
Universe: G1
Rating: PG
Word count: 560
Summary: Sometimes the problem you have to overcome is in yourself.
Notes: part 1 of 6.
He lacked the words to properly describe how obnoxious the new saboteur was. Prowl was certain he had learned them at some point in his life, but he was at a loss for them now.
Jazz insisted on invading his personal space. Well, he invaded everyone’s personal space, but the only other mech who seemed to mind was Sunstreaker-who was more private and anti-social than Prowl could ever hope to be. The saboteur was always too close to him, always casually touching a hand or shoulder or carelessly leaning against him during free periods where he was forced to be with the rest of the troops.
And the music. The constant noise was a constant distraction. He was never able to properly focus on anything while Jazz was around, because he was always having to tune out the saboteur’s music instead. Jazz even played the music during war room sessions, often times distracting everyone from Prime’s planning sessions.
And there were a thousand other things that made him hate the saboteur. Which was why it bothered him so much that the only mech who had bothered to visit him during his stay in medbay was Jazz.
“I know you don’t like me,” Jazz said softly, trying not to disturb the other patients in the medbay. “It’s okay. You don’t have to like everyone you meet, right?”
Prowl watched him, not really wanting to respond-or even talk to him. But he knew Jazz wouldn’t go away until he had said everything he wanted to say.
“I don’t really like you either.” That was a confession he hadn’t expected to hear. “You’re uptight and you don’t bend the rules. You don’t like music-and that’s a sin against Primus himself-and you think I’m a distraction where ever I go. Half the time you won’t even look me in the optics-metaphorically speaking. You’re so hard to reach, it makes me almost need to be your friend. So if I’m coming on a little strong, that’s why; I’m just trying to reach you.”
The saboteur held a data pad out to the tactician when he finished speaking. Prowl took it hesitantly.
“It’s a literature file,” Jazz told him. “I’ve had it for years, but it seemed like something you might like. And it gets boring, just laying around in here waiting for Ratchet to release you.”
He was unaccountably touched by the saboteur’s gesture, especially since the other mech had just confessed to not liking him. Prowl pulled up the file, curious to see what Jazz thought would be of interest to him.
He immediately recognized the title as one of the pieces of literature his tactics instructor had recommended to his class just before his graduation. He had always meant to go back and read it, but had never had the time.
“Thank you, Jazz.” For the first time he could remember, he was sincere when he said that.
Jazz’s smile was bright enough to make him feel awful for all his biting remarks and dry sarcasm in the past. “You’re welcome. Keep it if you like; I’ve read it so many times I don’t think I could delete it from my memory banks if I wanted to.”
“I will. Thank you again.” He still didn’t like Jazz, but perhaps hatred was not the most logical response to him.
please clicky!
Title: Where There is Hatred
Universe: G1
Rating: PG
Word count: 560
Summary: Sometimes the problem you have to overcome is in yourself.
Notes: part 1 of 6.
He lacked the words to properly describe how obnoxious the new saboteur was. Prowl was certain he had learned them at some point in his life, but he was at a loss for them now.
Jazz insisted on invading his personal space. Well, he invaded everyone’s personal space, but the only other mech who seemed to mind was Sunstreaker-who was more private and anti-social than Prowl could ever hope to be. The saboteur was always too close to him, always casually touching a hand or shoulder or carelessly leaning against him during free periods where he was forced to be with the rest of the troops.
And the music. The constant noise was a constant distraction. He was never able to properly focus on anything while Jazz was around, because he was always having to tune out the saboteur’s music instead. Jazz even played the music during war room sessions, often times distracting everyone from Prime’s planning sessions.
And there were a thousand other things that made him hate the saboteur. Which was why it bothered him so much that the only mech who had bothered to visit him during his stay in medbay was Jazz.
“I know you don’t like me,” Jazz said softly, trying not to disturb the other patients in the medbay. “It’s okay. You don’t have to like everyone you meet, right?”
Prowl watched him, not really wanting to respond-or even talk to him. But he knew Jazz wouldn’t go away until he had said everything he wanted to say.
“I don’t really like you either.” That was a confession he hadn’t expected to hear. “You’re uptight and you don’t bend the rules. You don’t like music-and that’s a sin against Primus himself-and you think I’m a distraction where ever I go. Half the time you won’t even look me in the optics-metaphorically speaking. You’re so hard to reach, it makes me almost need to be your friend. So if I’m coming on a little strong, that’s why; I’m just trying to reach you.”
The saboteur held a data pad out to the tactician when he finished speaking. Prowl took it hesitantly.
“It’s a literature file,” Jazz told him. “I’ve had it for years, but it seemed like something you might like. And it gets boring, just laying around in here waiting for Ratchet to release you.”
He was unaccountably touched by the saboteur’s gesture, especially since the other mech had just confessed to not liking him. Prowl pulled up the file, curious to see what Jazz thought would be of interest to him.
He immediately recognized the title as one of the pieces of literature his tactics instructor had recommended to his class just before his graduation. He had always meant to go back and read it, but had never had the time.
“Thank you, Jazz.” For the first time he could remember, he was sincere when he said that.
Jazz’s smile was bright enough to make him feel awful for all his biting remarks and dry sarcasm in the past. “You’re welcome. Keep it if you like; I’ve read it so many times I don’t think I could delete it from my memory banks if I wanted to.”
“I will. Thank you again.” He still didn’t like Jazz, but perhaps hatred was not the most logical response to him.
please clicky!