[FIC] Morning Tea, 3/? (Transformers, Jazz/Maggie, PG-13)
Title: "Morning Tea" - Chapter 3
Author: Lola Hard
Beta: Kristie ( ionicaq )
Pairing: Jazz/Maggie
Rating: PG-13 (just in case, nothing even remotely serious though... for now :))
Summary: Jazz asked Maggie a question over a cup of tea. What will be her answer?
Disclaimer: All characters belong to their copyright owners. No money gained, only fun.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
“Morning Tea” - Chapter 3
A soft purring sound and a ghosting sensation of air moving against Maggie’s face slowly pulled the girl from her sleep. She cracked her eyes open and saw a pair of huge green irises with thin vertical slits of black pupils that obviously belonged to a cat. The naturally quiet and graceful feline had brought her nose close to her mistress’ and was now sniffing it gently, the animal’s curved black whiskers tickling the girl’s skin.
“Hey Kitty,” Maggie slurred sleepily with a lazy smile, reaching up a hand to caress the silky smoke colored fur. The cat settled down on the pillow near the girl’s head, clawed paws combing her long blond hair with careful slow movements.
Maggie’s smile widened and she closed her eyes again, enjoying the soothing sensations. Just lying there in her bed, in the soft, warm nest of blankets and pillows, and having Kitty fiddling with her hair, was close to nirvana.
Sometimes Kitty really surprised Maggie by showing more intellect, loyalty and devotion than would be normal to expect from a cat. That morning the clever animal had been showing obvious signs of worry, following the tired Maggie around the house until the girl departed for the Autobot base to work on the new code that Optimus had intercepted. Now it seemed like the cat was happy that her owner managed to have a good sleep.
“Yeah, Kitty, no nightmares, and no headaches,” Maggie said, scratching behind the animal’s ear and hearing its loud content purr. “Still, I kind of have a lot on my mind now,” she mused aloud, needing someone to confide to, even if it was just a cat.
Maggie’s brain was finally able to process the last events without getting overheated, and she found herself mentally laying out the past two days before her for a close inspection.
It all had started pretty strange and unexpected. Jazz simply came into her workroom, and - using quite transparent euphemisms - expressed his wish to engage in intimate activities with her… Okay, if you excluded the fact that Jazz was an alien robot, that could happen to anyone. Basically, it happens all the time around the world. According to the statistics, every second at least 500 thousand pairs of people have sex. “Let’s do it like they do on the Discovery Channel” kind of thing. So no biggie, right? Right.
But…
Well, but. Here was a big stop. A huge gap in the stream of her thinking that presented an attempt to picture the possibility of the here and now changing into a future where she and Jazz could be together. Like a missing stage of evolution between an ape and a human. Or like an elementary school task: you have two points - A and B - and you need to connect them with one straight line. She felt like she had been given a similar task, but hadn’t been given a pencil.
The problem was she was standing on the edge of uncertainty, not knowing what to expect and how to act. Not so much because she didn’t know what to do with male interest directed at her, but rather because even though Jazz was male, he wasn’t human…
But the more she thought about it, the more unfair this thought actually seemed. Yes, Jazz was an alien, another species, not even organic - but the truth was, even if he was metallic and big and had a CPU instead of a brain, he was a Person, just like any other Cybertronian, just like any human. He could feel, he could hurt, and hate… and there was no doubt he experienced all other emotions that were inherent to sentient beings. He was capable of friendship, of loyalty; he possessed an outstanding sense of humor. He was unique in a way that every living being in the Universe is incomparable. And he’d come to her with a very personal request.
And what had been her reaction? Heck, she had freaked out. So violently she hadn’t been able to form a coherent thought for the rest of that day, had Megatron-ish nightmares the following night, and acted like a zombie this morning as well, until she’d had several hours of healthy sleep.
And who was she so afraid of? Jazz? The Autobot who had let himself get fucking ripped in two to give the others time to retreat during the battle in Mission City? The Cybertronian guy, always an optimist, who danced his way through every trouble? The one who’d caught the damn chair this morning to keep her from being hurt, seen right through her unfriendly behavior, said nice things and insisted that she should rest?
“Conscience is a bitch, Kitty,” Maggie murmured sadly, stroking the cat’s soft fur and listening to her pleased purrs. Now the girl felt guilty. For many things at once: for treating Jazz like he didn’t deserve trust, for doubting his good nature, for unconsciously pushing him away, for getting scared of him when in reality he’d done nothing to cause it.
“Nothing…” she repeated absentmindedly, recalling and analyzing the history of their relationship.
To tell the truth, she didn’t know him all that well, but from day one of their acquaintance she’d learned that he was an honorable mech who, despite his cocky behavior, had a great deal of respect for others, and vice versa. He liked human culture, and that spoke volumes about his bright personality, open-minded and curious. He was perceptive enough to characterize Maggie the day before, and it had actually been funny and disturbingly close to truth.
She chuckled softly at the thought.
He had never invaded Maggie’s personal space until the previous morning when he had touched her face. But he hadn’t been forcing himself on her, or trying to humiliate or embarrass her - the purpose of the gesture had been clearly to draw the line where Jazz was standing in this whole situation that was unfolding between the two of them.
Maggie felt warmth on her cheeks at the memory of the contact. She remembered every little detail of it. She never thought such a huge creature could be so… gentle. The touch had been soft, and light. Delicate. It hadn’t been unpleasant. It just felt- unusual. Firstly, because she’d never had a robot touch her in that manner. And secondly, she’d never had anyone touch her with such… admiration. She had been too shocked back then to recognize it. But now this realization confused and surprised her. Never in a million years - not that she would live that long - would she have thought that an ancient being like Jazz could actually find her worthy of admiration…
Maybe - just maybe…
She didn’t finish the thought. Whatever this situation was, it wasn’t simple. The Question was still hanging in the air, but she needed time to come to any sort of a decision - for her own sake and for the sake of Jazz. And the silver Autobot had made it apparent that he was willing to give her all the time she needed.
Maggie sighed. “Let’s have a little snack, Kitty,” she said pushing the blankets away and rising from the bed. The cat looked at her with attention, stretched sweetly and followed her to the kitchen on silent paws.
Pouring herself a cup of tea, Maggie decided to put an end to this ridiculous ‘a robotic car has a crush on me’ panic and start acting normal in Jazz’s presence. He deserved that much. That meant being calm, nice, funny, and… well, normal.
Yes, that’s what adult people do, right?
Too bad, when it came to the Autobots she’d always felt like a little rave girl on the inside.
-----
As much as the mission of “behaving adequately” had seemed impossible, Maggie found it not that hard to relax around the silver ‘bot, now that she’d faced her inner problem. He kept paying her little visits every morning at the Autobot base, making her smile and laugh at his jokes, helping if she needed help, telling her the latest news on the never-ending war, and just being a pleasant company. He kept paying her compliments, which made her blush more often than not, which in turn always made him smile and look extremely pleased (and often smug). She felt uncomfortable at first whenever he did that, but she’d eventually learned to accept it as ‘Jazz being Jazz.’
Of course, she knew why he was doing it - he was letting her get used to him without putting too much pressure. It basically looked like he was just checking on her on his way to his daily Autobot activities. And it was kind of nice. No pressure, that is. And having someone to talk to. Of course, she had opportunity to speak with all of the Autobots, but still, Jazz’s attention made her feel… special.
So, for the past week it had become a ritual: an unhurried morning in her workroom, a cup of green tea, a soft swinging R’n’B tune at the door instead of a knock, a beaming smile that could put Mel Gibson to shame, some chatting/joking/blushing, a promise not to work too hard on her part, and a well-timed retreat on his part. Every day without fail. (Today, though, was an exception, since she was needed by Defense Secretary Keller for a monthly report on the Human-Autobot Cooperation program.)
As a result of this week, she and Jazz were cool. Easy banter and friendly flirting had become a norm. All in all, she was doing okay. No more nightmares, no more headaches.
Until this night. Kitty had been in heat since the previous evening, and considering the lack of cat-pals in the secluded area of Maggie’s suburb house to hang out - and spend some quality time - with, Kitty had quickly turned into a real pain in the butt, as well as ears and head, torturing her owner with animalistic cries that sounded as if the feline was going to die the next minute. It had gotten exceptionally annoying during the previous night, which was perfectly understandable.
So right now, Maggie was standing on all fours in the neatly cut grass, the knees of her old torn jeans and her palms soaking in the evening dew. The girl was peering under the porch where Kitty was hiding… Geez, she hated darkness. And, of course, it was pitch-dark under the porch. The dimming light of the setting sun wasn’t helping much, and she was starting to consider going into the house for a flash-light.
“Kitty, why on Earth did you have to choose this darn hole as your hiding place?” the girl muttered, straining to see anything in the inky blackness. It looked like Kitty was perfectly content with making god-awful noise from where she currently resided, and wasn’t intending to get out in the nearest future on her own accord. “Kitty, come out, honey,” Maggie pleaded. “I’d really appreciate that!”
The main question was, why would Kitty hide at all in the first place? It looked like a Love Attack had made her temporarily go insane. Maggie just hoped it wasn’t contagious.
Twin sparks of cat eyes flashed in the darkness, and a uterine sound - miraculously softer than everything Kitty had produced up to this moment - reached the girl’s abused ears. The cat was somewhere close, but there was absolutely no way that Maggie was sticking her arms into that hole! There could be spiders, and bugs, and rats there… Well, the latter wasn’t really likely; Kitty wouldn’t fall so low as to allow a rat to share a cubic meter of space with her…
A long, heartfelt catcall behind Maggie’s back made her jump a mile and almost catch the wooden banister with her head. She sprung up to her feet and turned around, eyes wide, heart thumping in her chest.
Jazz was sitting in the middle of her lawn in a carefree pose, resting his elbows on his bent up knees. How the hell did he materialize there so soundlessly? She hadn’t even heard him!
A second of disorientation grew into the realization that not a minute ago she’d been giving Jazz a perfect view of her rear. Oh well, here comes the blush again.
“Sorry for scarin’ ya, babe. Couldn’t help ma’self,” Jazz spoke up with a grin. “Don’t mind me, juz keep doin’ whatever it was ya were doin’,” he made a circled motion with his hand meaning that she was free to turn around and resume her previous kneeled position on the grass.
Maggie rolled her eyes, still struggling with the heat on her cheeks. That Autobot had a knack for striking appearances and strange greeting lines. “Hello, Jazz. What brought you here?”
“Missed ya at the base today,” his grin softened to a smile, and Maggie allowed the corners of her lips twitch - just slightly. Okay, that somewhat rehabilitated him after peeping and startling her.
“Well, I had some work to do, some meetings to attend. I’m still working for the government, you know,” she shrugged.
“A call of duty, huh,” he chuckled. “So whatcha doin’?”
She threw a glance behind her back. “Uh, I’m trying to persuade Kitty to come out from under the porch.”
As if on cue, a loud heart-wrenching wail resounded throughout the yard.
“That Kitty?” Jazz asked, inclining his head in confusion. He’d never been at Maggie’s house before and hadn’t had pleasure to meet her cat yet.
“Yep, that’s Kitty,” Maggie gave a small smile.
“Hmm. What’s with the wailin’?”
She thought for a moment. How do you explain to a mechanical being the nuances of an organic animal life? “Well,” she searched for words, scratching the back of her head. “It’s a… mating time for her, and she is- you know, asking for a male,” Maggie shrugged.
“Askin’ for a male?” Jazz repeated, processing the information. “Wow, that’s… kinda blunt,” he chuckled. Maggie smirked; finally she knew the limits of Jazz’s straightforwardness.
“And annoying as hell,” she added aloud. “Because it’s been going on since yesterday, with only a couple of short breaks for food and sleep.” She dug a small pill out of the back-pocket of her jeans, turned in the direction of the porch, and crouched down. “Hey Kitty, come to momma! I’ve got something yummy for you, sweetheart! I know you love it!” She called out in the most appealing and joyful intonation she could possibly muster, hoping it would persuade the feline to abandon her sanctuary.
Jazz stopped all movement beside her; they both were staring intently at the porch and listening to Kitty’s reaction.
Silence.
Maggie sighed. “She’s a real problem kid sometimes.”
Jazz smiled at that and nodded at the pill in Maggie’s hand. “What’s that?”
“Vitamins,” she said, straightening and turning back to him. “She really loves them, and they are good for her hair. I don’t know why she wouldn’t come out…” She spread her arms helplessly in surrender. “So how did you find me?” Quite a rightful question. It was usually Bumblebee who gave her a lift, since the yellow Camaro drove Sam and Mikaela home anyway, and everybody else at the base was busy with patrolling, security, repairs and other important Autobot things.
“Took ‘Bee captive. He told me everythin’,” Jazz said in an overly serious tone.
“Everything?” She arched a brow.
“Well, yeah. Includin’ the classified information like when he’d had his first shot of high-grade, at what age he interfaced for the first time, how many-”
“Okay, okay, I get your point! Welcome to my humble abode,” she smiled.
“Thanks,” the saboteur grinned. “Nice place,” he motioned towards the house. “Too bad the front door’s a bit too small for me ta see what’s inside.”
“It’s you who’s a bit too large, Jazz,” Maggie teased him with a smile.
“Nah. Prime an’ ‘Hide are the real beasts o’ the pack, I ain’t really that- Whoa!” Jazz suddenly exclaimed, looking down. Maggie followed his gaze and had to suppress a snicker. While they were talking the curious Kitty had crawled from her place of hiding, approached the sitting Autobot carefully, and was now sniffing at his foot. The sight caused Maggie to smile; Sam had told her the epic story about Mojo peeing on Ironhide’s foot, and it was hilarious to watch Jazz freeze dreadfully.
“Is she gonna…?” the Autobot asked somewhat tensely, unsure of what to do.
“No, Jazz, female cats don’t do that,” Maggie was now grinning from ear to ear.
The feline finished sniffing the saboteur, and then suddenly rubbed her small body against the Autobot’s leg and wrapped the fluffy tail around it.
“What’s that mean?” Jazz asked in confusion, watching the animal with amusement and not risking moving just yet.
Maggie giggled. “That means Kitty likes you.”
“She does?” Jazz shot Maggie a look of surprise and turned his attention back to the cat, a huge grin plastered on his face. “Aww, kitty-girl, I’m flattered,” he chirped affectionately, reaching down to run one of his fingers along the soft fur gently, getting a back-arch and a pleased mewl in return.
“Kitty, you mean traitor,” Maggie berated the cat half-heartedly. “Don’t tell me you fell for that sly grin and broad shoulders, and completely forgot about your mom.”
Jazz laughed at that, turning his attention to Maggie. “No need for jealousy, baby,” he gave the girl a meaningful and playful smile. “I’ll make sure she knows ma’ spark’s taken.”
Maggie could only attempt to hide a smirk, shaking her head. “I honestly doubt that’ll stop her.”
The mech chuckled softly, reveling in the furry-purry attention Kitty was giving him. Maggie wished she had a camera to perpetuate the image of Jazz getting ‘hit on’ by a cat.
Jesus, now her cat liked him…
Could life get any crazier?
“Maggie, I actually wanted ta ask-” Jazz said. “Ya got any plans for tonight?”
Oh. Apparently it could.
End of Chapter 3
“Let’s do it like they do on the discovery channel” - these words are not mine, it’s a line from the song “The Bad Touch” by Bloodhound Gang; just felt the need to point this out.
Author: Lola Hard
Beta: Kristie ( ionicaq )
Pairing: Jazz/Maggie
Rating: PG-13 (just in case, nothing even remotely serious though... for now :))
Summary: Jazz asked Maggie a question over a cup of tea. What will be her answer?
Disclaimer: All characters belong to their copyright owners. No money gained, only fun.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
“Morning Tea” - Chapter 3
A soft purring sound and a ghosting sensation of air moving against Maggie’s face slowly pulled the girl from her sleep. She cracked her eyes open and saw a pair of huge green irises with thin vertical slits of black pupils that obviously belonged to a cat. The naturally quiet and graceful feline had brought her nose close to her mistress’ and was now sniffing it gently, the animal’s curved black whiskers tickling the girl’s skin.
“Hey Kitty,” Maggie slurred sleepily with a lazy smile, reaching up a hand to caress the silky smoke colored fur. The cat settled down on the pillow near the girl’s head, clawed paws combing her long blond hair with careful slow movements.
Maggie’s smile widened and she closed her eyes again, enjoying the soothing sensations. Just lying there in her bed, in the soft, warm nest of blankets and pillows, and having Kitty fiddling with her hair, was close to nirvana.
Sometimes Kitty really surprised Maggie by showing more intellect, loyalty and devotion than would be normal to expect from a cat. That morning the clever animal had been showing obvious signs of worry, following the tired Maggie around the house until the girl departed for the Autobot base to work on the new code that Optimus had intercepted. Now it seemed like the cat was happy that her owner managed to have a good sleep.
“Yeah, Kitty, no nightmares, and no headaches,” Maggie said, scratching behind the animal’s ear and hearing its loud content purr. “Still, I kind of have a lot on my mind now,” she mused aloud, needing someone to confide to, even if it was just a cat.
Maggie’s brain was finally able to process the last events without getting overheated, and she found herself mentally laying out the past two days before her for a close inspection.
It all had started pretty strange and unexpected. Jazz simply came into her workroom, and - using quite transparent euphemisms - expressed his wish to engage in intimate activities with her… Okay, if you excluded the fact that Jazz was an alien robot, that could happen to anyone. Basically, it happens all the time around the world. According to the statistics, every second at least 500 thousand pairs of people have sex. “Let’s do it like they do on the Discovery Channel” kind of thing. So no biggie, right? Right.
But…
Well, but. Here was a big stop. A huge gap in the stream of her thinking that presented an attempt to picture the possibility of the here and now changing into a future where she and Jazz could be together. Like a missing stage of evolution between an ape and a human. Or like an elementary school task: you have two points - A and B - and you need to connect them with one straight line. She felt like she had been given a similar task, but hadn’t been given a pencil.
The problem was she was standing on the edge of uncertainty, not knowing what to expect and how to act. Not so much because she didn’t know what to do with male interest directed at her, but rather because even though Jazz was male, he wasn’t human…
But the more she thought about it, the more unfair this thought actually seemed. Yes, Jazz was an alien, another species, not even organic - but the truth was, even if he was metallic and big and had a CPU instead of a brain, he was a Person, just like any other Cybertronian, just like any human. He could feel, he could hurt, and hate… and there was no doubt he experienced all other emotions that were inherent to sentient beings. He was capable of friendship, of loyalty; he possessed an outstanding sense of humor. He was unique in a way that every living being in the Universe is incomparable. And he’d come to her with a very personal request.
And what had been her reaction? Heck, she had freaked out. So violently she hadn’t been able to form a coherent thought for the rest of that day, had Megatron-ish nightmares the following night, and acted like a zombie this morning as well, until she’d had several hours of healthy sleep.
And who was she so afraid of? Jazz? The Autobot who had let himself get fucking ripped in two to give the others time to retreat during the battle in Mission City? The Cybertronian guy, always an optimist, who danced his way through every trouble? The one who’d caught the damn chair this morning to keep her from being hurt, seen right through her unfriendly behavior, said nice things and insisted that she should rest?
“Conscience is a bitch, Kitty,” Maggie murmured sadly, stroking the cat’s soft fur and listening to her pleased purrs. Now the girl felt guilty. For many things at once: for treating Jazz like he didn’t deserve trust, for doubting his good nature, for unconsciously pushing him away, for getting scared of him when in reality he’d done nothing to cause it.
“Nothing…” she repeated absentmindedly, recalling and analyzing the history of their relationship.
To tell the truth, she didn’t know him all that well, but from day one of their acquaintance she’d learned that he was an honorable mech who, despite his cocky behavior, had a great deal of respect for others, and vice versa. He liked human culture, and that spoke volumes about his bright personality, open-minded and curious. He was perceptive enough to characterize Maggie the day before, and it had actually been funny and disturbingly close to truth.
She chuckled softly at the thought.
He had never invaded Maggie’s personal space until the previous morning when he had touched her face. But he hadn’t been forcing himself on her, or trying to humiliate or embarrass her - the purpose of the gesture had been clearly to draw the line where Jazz was standing in this whole situation that was unfolding between the two of them.
Maggie felt warmth on her cheeks at the memory of the contact. She remembered every little detail of it. She never thought such a huge creature could be so… gentle. The touch had been soft, and light. Delicate. It hadn’t been unpleasant. It just felt- unusual. Firstly, because she’d never had a robot touch her in that manner. And secondly, she’d never had anyone touch her with such… admiration. She had been too shocked back then to recognize it. But now this realization confused and surprised her. Never in a million years - not that she would live that long - would she have thought that an ancient being like Jazz could actually find her worthy of admiration…
Maybe - just maybe…
She didn’t finish the thought. Whatever this situation was, it wasn’t simple. The Question was still hanging in the air, but she needed time to come to any sort of a decision - for her own sake and for the sake of Jazz. And the silver Autobot had made it apparent that he was willing to give her all the time she needed.
Maggie sighed. “Let’s have a little snack, Kitty,” she said pushing the blankets away and rising from the bed. The cat looked at her with attention, stretched sweetly and followed her to the kitchen on silent paws.
Pouring herself a cup of tea, Maggie decided to put an end to this ridiculous ‘a robotic car has a crush on me’ panic and start acting normal in Jazz’s presence. He deserved that much. That meant being calm, nice, funny, and… well, normal.
Yes, that’s what adult people do, right?
Too bad, when it came to the Autobots she’d always felt like a little rave girl on the inside.
-----
As much as the mission of “behaving adequately” had seemed impossible, Maggie found it not that hard to relax around the silver ‘bot, now that she’d faced her inner problem. He kept paying her little visits every morning at the Autobot base, making her smile and laugh at his jokes, helping if she needed help, telling her the latest news on the never-ending war, and just being a pleasant company. He kept paying her compliments, which made her blush more often than not, which in turn always made him smile and look extremely pleased (and often smug). She felt uncomfortable at first whenever he did that, but she’d eventually learned to accept it as ‘Jazz being Jazz.’
Of course, she knew why he was doing it - he was letting her get used to him without putting too much pressure. It basically looked like he was just checking on her on his way to his daily Autobot activities. And it was kind of nice. No pressure, that is. And having someone to talk to. Of course, she had opportunity to speak with all of the Autobots, but still, Jazz’s attention made her feel… special.
So, for the past week it had become a ritual: an unhurried morning in her workroom, a cup of green tea, a soft swinging R’n’B tune at the door instead of a knock, a beaming smile that could put Mel Gibson to shame, some chatting/joking/blushing, a promise not to work too hard on her part, and a well-timed retreat on his part. Every day without fail. (Today, though, was an exception, since she was needed by Defense Secretary Keller for a monthly report on the Human-Autobot Cooperation program.)
As a result of this week, she and Jazz were cool. Easy banter and friendly flirting had become a norm. All in all, she was doing okay. No more nightmares, no more headaches.
Until this night. Kitty had been in heat since the previous evening, and considering the lack of cat-pals in the secluded area of Maggie’s suburb house to hang out - and spend some quality time - with, Kitty had quickly turned into a real pain in the butt, as well as ears and head, torturing her owner with animalistic cries that sounded as if the feline was going to die the next minute. It had gotten exceptionally annoying during the previous night, which was perfectly understandable.
So right now, Maggie was standing on all fours in the neatly cut grass, the knees of her old torn jeans and her palms soaking in the evening dew. The girl was peering under the porch where Kitty was hiding… Geez, she hated darkness. And, of course, it was pitch-dark under the porch. The dimming light of the setting sun wasn’t helping much, and she was starting to consider going into the house for a flash-light.
“Kitty, why on Earth did you have to choose this darn hole as your hiding place?” the girl muttered, straining to see anything in the inky blackness. It looked like Kitty was perfectly content with making god-awful noise from where she currently resided, and wasn’t intending to get out in the nearest future on her own accord. “Kitty, come out, honey,” Maggie pleaded. “I’d really appreciate that!”
The main question was, why would Kitty hide at all in the first place? It looked like a Love Attack had made her temporarily go insane. Maggie just hoped it wasn’t contagious.
Twin sparks of cat eyes flashed in the darkness, and a uterine sound - miraculously softer than everything Kitty had produced up to this moment - reached the girl’s abused ears. The cat was somewhere close, but there was absolutely no way that Maggie was sticking her arms into that hole! There could be spiders, and bugs, and rats there… Well, the latter wasn’t really likely; Kitty wouldn’t fall so low as to allow a rat to share a cubic meter of space with her…
A long, heartfelt catcall behind Maggie’s back made her jump a mile and almost catch the wooden banister with her head. She sprung up to her feet and turned around, eyes wide, heart thumping in her chest.
Jazz was sitting in the middle of her lawn in a carefree pose, resting his elbows on his bent up knees. How the hell did he materialize there so soundlessly? She hadn’t even heard him!
A second of disorientation grew into the realization that not a minute ago she’d been giving Jazz a perfect view of her rear. Oh well, here comes the blush again.
“Sorry for scarin’ ya, babe. Couldn’t help ma’self,” Jazz spoke up with a grin. “Don’t mind me, juz keep doin’ whatever it was ya were doin’,” he made a circled motion with his hand meaning that she was free to turn around and resume her previous kneeled position on the grass.
Maggie rolled her eyes, still struggling with the heat on her cheeks. That Autobot had a knack for striking appearances and strange greeting lines. “Hello, Jazz. What brought you here?”
“Missed ya at the base today,” his grin softened to a smile, and Maggie allowed the corners of her lips twitch - just slightly. Okay, that somewhat rehabilitated him after peeping and startling her.
“Well, I had some work to do, some meetings to attend. I’m still working for the government, you know,” she shrugged.
“A call of duty, huh,” he chuckled. “So whatcha doin’?”
She threw a glance behind her back. “Uh, I’m trying to persuade Kitty to come out from under the porch.”
As if on cue, a loud heart-wrenching wail resounded throughout the yard.
“That Kitty?” Jazz asked, inclining his head in confusion. He’d never been at Maggie’s house before and hadn’t had pleasure to meet her cat yet.
“Yep, that’s Kitty,” Maggie gave a small smile.
“Hmm. What’s with the wailin’?”
She thought for a moment. How do you explain to a mechanical being the nuances of an organic animal life? “Well,” she searched for words, scratching the back of her head. “It’s a… mating time for her, and she is- you know, asking for a male,” Maggie shrugged.
“Askin’ for a male?” Jazz repeated, processing the information. “Wow, that’s… kinda blunt,” he chuckled. Maggie smirked; finally she knew the limits of Jazz’s straightforwardness.
“And annoying as hell,” she added aloud. “Because it’s been going on since yesterday, with only a couple of short breaks for food and sleep.” She dug a small pill out of the back-pocket of her jeans, turned in the direction of the porch, and crouched down. “Hey Kitty, come to momma! I’ve got something yummy for you, sweetheart! I know you love it!” She called out in the most appealing and joyful intonation she could possibly muster, hoping it would persuade the feline to abandon her sanctuary.
Jazz stopped all movement beside her; they both were staring intently at the porch and listening to Kitty’s reaction.
Silence.
Maggie sighed. “She’s a real problem kid sometimes.”
Jazz smiled at that and nodded at the pill in Maggie’s hand. “What’s that?”
“Vitamins,” she said, straightening and turning back to him. “She really loves them, and they are good for her hair. I don’t know why she wouldn’t come out…” She spread her arms helplessly in surrender. “So how did you find me?” Quite a rightful question. It was usually Bumblebee who gave her a lift, since the yellow Camaro drove Sam and Mikaela home anyway, and everybody else at the base was busy with patrolling, security, repairs and other important Autobot things.
“Took ‘Bee captive. He told me everythin’,” Jazz said in an overly serious tone.
“Everything?” She arched a brow.
“Well, yeah. Includin’ the classified information like when he’d had his first shot of high-grade, at what age he interfaced for the first time, how many-”
“Okay, okay, I get your point! Welcome to my humble abode,” she smiled.
“Thanks,” the saboteur grinned. “Nice place,” he motioned towards the house. “Too bad the front door’s a bit too small for me ta see what’s inside.”
“It’s you who’s a bit too large, Jazz,” Maggie teased him with a smile.
“Nah. Prime an’ ‘Hide are the real beasts o’ the pack, I ain’t really that- Whoa!” Jazz suddenly exclaimed, looking down. Maggie followed his gaze and had to suppress a snicker. While they were talking the curious Kitty had crawled from her place of hiding, approached the sitting Autobot carefully, and was now sniffing at his foot. The sight caused Maggie to smile; Sam had told her the epic story about Mojo peeing on Ironhide’s foot, and it was hilarious to watch Jazz freeze dreadfully.
“Is she gonna…?” the Autobot asked somewhat tensely, unsure of what to do.
“No, Jazz, female cats don’t do that,” Maggie was now grinning from ear to ear.
The feline finished sniffing the saboteur, and then suddenly rubbed her small body against the Autobot’s leg and wrapped the fluffy tail around it.
“What’s that mean?” Jazz asked in confusion, watching the animal with amusement and not risking moving just yet.
Maggie giggled. “That means Kitty likes you.”
“She does?” Jazz shot Maggie a look of surprise and turned his attention back to the cat, a huge grin plastered on his face. “Aww, kitty-girl, I’m flattered,” he chirped affectionately, reaching down to run one of his fingers along the soft fur gently, getting a back-arch and a pleased mewl in return.
“Kitty, you mean traitor,” Maggie berated the cat half-heartedly. “Don’t tell me you fell for that sly grin and broad shoulders, and completely forgot about your mom.”
Jazz laughed at that, turning his attention to Maggie. “No need for jealousy, baby,” he gave the girl a meaningful and playful smile. “I’ll make sure she knows ma’ spark’s taken.”
Maggie could only attempt to hide a smirk, shaking her head. “I honestly doubt that’ll stop her.”
The mech chuckled softly, reveling in the furry-purry attention Kitty was giving him. Maggie wished she had a camera to perpetuate the image of Jazz getting ‘hit on’ by a cat.
Jesus, now her cat liked him…
Could life get any crazier?
“Maggie, I actually wanted ta ask-” Jazz said. “Ya got any plans for tonight?”
Oh. Apparently it could.
End of Chapter 3
“Let’s do it like they do on the discovery channel” - these words are not mine, it’s a line from the song “The Bad Touch” by Bloodhound Gang; just felt the need to point this out.