fic+art dump
“Prime, you have to talk to him. The pig-headed little brat won’t listen to anyone else!” Ironhide was pacing Prime’s temporary quarters.
Optimus sighed. “What would you have me say?” he asked tiredly.
“Putting them together was you and Jazz’s half-wit idea in the first place.” Ratchet reminded Ironhide.
“I know!” Ironhide growled. “It was a mistake, but we didn’t expect him to go sleep with the bastard!”
Jazz sighed. “Bee’s never met anyone like Blackout. We, however, should have seen this coming. We know how manipulative he can be. Bee-” Jazz hesitated. “Bee’s a good soldier, but he’s young and inexperienced. And Blackout’s charming, handsome, and dangerously intelligent.”
“And he’s an evil bastard,” Ironhide put in.
“Ratchet and I will try to talk to Bumblebee. In the meantime, have you found any sign of what the Decepticons are planning?”
“Not really,” Ironhide admitted. “Brawl doesn’t even talk to the other Decepticons, except for the occasional exchange with Bonecrusher.”
“And Bonecrusher’s even less social than Brawl,” Ratchet added. “He seems,” Ratchet continued with an amused look, “To communicate largely in obscenities.”
“Expandin’ your vocabulary, Ratch?” Jazz grinned.
Ratchet smirked back. “I’m keeping a list.”
Jazz turned back to Optimus, becoming serious again. “I’m sure something’s up. Barricade’s being careful, though, and I haven’t been able to find out what. Whatever’s going on, he’s in on it.”
“It’s not in Megatron’s - or Starscream’s - nature to let this sort of opportunity pass. Keep on him, Jazz. I don’t want blindsided again; not with us in such a precarious position.”
“I’m on it, Prime.”
Ratchet gave Jazz a sideways look as they left Prime’s quarters. “You’re planning something of dubious morality again, aren’t you? You’ve got that look on your face.”
Jazz gave him an innocent look and adjusted his sunglasses. “Who, me? I’m just doing my duty to the Autobot cause.”
“I’m sure. Be careful, alright?” Ratchet said quietly. “I don’t want to have to patch your ass back together.”
“Your concern is overwhelming as always,” Jazz laughed.
“Isn’t it, though?”
x-x-x
“Bumblebee. A word?”
Bee looked up at Optimus with a twinge of foreboding. He’d been expecting his commander to continue Ironhide and Jazz’s lecture all day.
“I’ll meet up with you later,” Bee whispered to Blackout.
The chopper pilot nodded. “I’ll be off avoiding Bonecrusher. Just come find me when you’re done.” Blackout walked past the Autobots into the Nemesis’ cargo bay, stuffing the stick he’d been throwing for Skorponok in Brawl’s tank treads as he passed. His dog bounded along beside him.
Bee tried to judge his commander’s mood. Despite the graying hair, Optimus Prime was still an imposing figure, and Bee was feeling more than a bit nervous.
“You didn’t come back to the Nemesis last night,” Optimus rumbled.
Bee scuffed his toe. “…No.”
Optimus sighed. “Bumblebee, normally I have the utmost respect for your judgment. But in this case-”
“I’m just doing what Jazz and Ironhide told me to!” Bee broke in, his tone defiant.
“They told you to sleep with a Decepticon?” Optimus asked with disapproval.
Bee bristled. “Just because I’m not glaring hatefully at his back every two seconds like Ironhide does, ‘Hide assumes I’m sleeping with him!”
“Are you?” Optimus was blunt.
Bee shrank back, looking uncomfortable.
“I see.”
“I am keeping a close watch on him. Close enough that I can say with certainty that the only plot he’s engaged in is one to do as little actual work repairing the Nemesis as he can.” Bee paused. “Optimus, I see a chance to sway him to the Autobot side. He’s obviously dissatisfied with the Decepticon cause. It’s a chance to remove a weapon from Megatron, and gain ourselves a powerful ally. Aren’t you always preaching the preservation of all life? Rehabilitation, rather than retaliation?”
“And here I though you slept through my speeches,” Optimus said with humor. He sighed. “Very well, but be careful, Bumblebee. Try not to forget what he’s capable of. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
He’s capable of more than you give him credit for - kindness, love… “I won’t.”
x-x-x
Jazz knew he should be disgusted by what he was planning. He stood just inside the bridge, watching Barricade work. The pilot was bent over a consol, frowning slightly. Barricade ran a hand through his dark hair in an unconscious gesture of frustration.
Jazz smiled. Something in Barricade’s fluid, graceful movements and cool logic reminded him of Prowl. His Prowl, so unrelentingly logical, surprisingly shy and startlingly sweet… Dark red hair and a knowing little half smile… Jazz closed his eyes and swallowed, guilt washing over him.
He was doing this for a reason, Jazz reminded himself. He’d done far worse things for his faction. Prowl would understand. He always did.
Pasting a cheerful smile on his face, Jazz stepped further into the bridge. “How’s the repairs coming?”
“Slowly,” muttered Barricade. He didn’t elaborate.
Jazz flopped in the chair next to the pilot, one leg hooked over the chair arm. He noted Barricade’s appreciative lingering look with satisfaction.
This was going to be easier than he thought.
x-x-x
Barricade was having trouble keeping his own smirk off his face. The Autobots had swept Prime’s quarters for listening devices before their little chat, but Frenzy was very, very good at his job. Intrusion and communication were his duel specialties, and there were few who could even come close to the hacker’s skill level.
Barricade’s specialty, on the other hand, was lying. Falsehood came to him as easily as breathing. An honest creature by nature, Jazz’s training had no chance against a lifetime of deceit and treachery. Blackout loved corruption; Barricade lived for that one expression of ultimate pain and betrayal.
So the Autobots wanted information. Barricade intended to find out just how far Jazz was willing to go to get it.
x-xxxx-x
And because I got bored:
... I have no excuse.
Optimus sighed. “What would you have me say?” he asked tiredly.
“Putting them together was you and Jazz’s half-wit idea in the first place.” Ratchet reminded Ironhide.
“I know!” Ironhide growled. “It was a mistake, but we didn’t expect him to go sleep with the bastard!”
Jazz sighed. “Bee’s never met anyone like Blackout. We, however, should have seen this coming. We know how manipulative he can be. Bee-” Jazz hesitated. “Bee’s a good soldier, but he’s young and inexperienced. And Blackout’s charming, handsome, and dangerously intelligent.”
“And he’s an evil bastard,” Ironhide put in.
“Ratchet and I will try to talk to Bumblebee. In the meantime, have you found any sign of what the Decepticons are planning?”
“Not really,” Ironhide admitted. “Brawl doesn’t even talk to the other Decepticons, except for the occasional exchange with Bonecrusher.”
“And Bonecrusher’s even less social than Brawl,” Ratchet added. “He seems,” Ratchet continued with an amused look, “To communicate largely in obscenities.”
“Expandin’ your vocabulary, Ratch?” Jazz grinned.
Ratchet smirked back. “I’m keeping a list.”
Jazz turned back to Optimus, becoming serious again. “I’m sure something’s up. Barricade’s being careful, though, and I haven’t been able to find out what. Whatever’s going on, he’s in on it.”
“It’s not in Megatron’s - or Starscream’s - nature to let this sort of opportunity pass. Keep on him, Jazz. I don’t want blindsided again; not with us in such a precarious position.”
“I’m on it, Prime.”
Ratchet gave Jazz a sideways look as they left Prime’s quarters. “You’re planning something of dubious morality again, aren’t you? You’ve got that look on your face.”
Jazz gave him an innocent look and adjusted his sunglasses. “Who, me? I’m just doing my duty to the Autobot cause.”
“I’m sure. Be careful, alright?” Ratchet said quietly. “I don’t want to have to patch your ass back together.”
“Your concern is overwhelming as always,” Jazz laughed.
“Isn’t it, though?”
x-x-x
“Bumblebee. A word?”
Bee looked up at Optimus with a twinge of foreboding. He’d been expecting his commander to continue Ironhide and Jazz’s lecture all day.
“I’ll meet up with you later,” Bee whispered to Blackout.
The chopper pilot nodded. “I’ll be off avoiding Bonecrusher. Just come find me when you’re done.” Blackout walked past the Autobots into the Nemesis’ cargo bay, stuffing the stick he’d been throwing for Skorponok in Brawl’s tank treads as he passed. His dog bounded along beside him.
Bee tried to judge his commander’s mood. Despite the graying hair, Optimus Prime was still an imposing figure, and Bee was feeling more than a bit nervous.
“You didn’t come back to the Nemesis last night,” Optimus rumbled.
Bee scuffed his toe. “…No.”
Optimus sighed. “Bumblebee, normally I have the utmost respect for your judgment. But in this case-”
“I’m just doing what Jazz and Ironhide told me to!” Bee broke in, his tone defiant.
“They told you to sleep with a Decepticon?” Optimus asked with disapproval.
Bee bristled. “Just because I’m not glaring hatefully at his back every two seconds like Ironhide does, ‘Hide assumes I’m sleeping with him!”
“Are you?” Optimus was blunt.
Bee shrank back, looking uncomfortable.
“I see.”
“I am keeping a close watch on him. Close enough that I can say with certainty that the only plot he’s engaged in is one to do as little actual work repairing the Nemesis as he can.” Bee paused. “Optimus, I see a chance to sway him to the Autobot side. He’s obviously dissatisfied with the Decepticon cause. It’s a chance to remove a weapon from Megatron, and gain ourselves a powerful ally. Aren’t you always preaching the preservation of all life? Rehabilitation, rather than retaliation?”
“And here I though you slept through my speeches,” Optimus said with humor. He sighed. “Very well, but be careful, Bumblebee. Try not to forget what he’s capable of. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
He’s capable of more than you give him credit for - kindness, love… “I won’t.”
x-x-x
Jazz knew he should be disgusted by what he was planning. He stood just inside the bridge, watching Barricade work. The pilot was bent over a consol, frowning slightly. Barricade ran a hand through his dark hair in an unconscious gesture of frustration.
Jazz smiled. Something in Barricade’s fluid, graceful movements and cool logic reminded him of Prowl. His Prowl, so unrelentingly logical, surprisingly shy and startlingly sweet… Dark red hair and a knowing little half smile… Jazz closed his eyes and swallowed, guilt washing over him.
He was doing this for a reason, Jazz reminded himself. He’d done far worse things for his faction. Prowl would understand. He always did.
Pasting a cheerful smile on his face, Jazz stepped further into the bridge. “How’s the repairs coming?”
“Slowly,” muttered Barricade. He didn’t elaborate.
Jazz flopped in the chair next to the pilot, one leg hooked over the chair arm. He noted Barricade’s appreciative lingering look with satisfaction.
This was going to be easier than he thought.
x-x-x
Barricade was having trouble keeping his own smirk off his face. The Autobots had swept Prime’s quarters for listening devices before their little chat, but Frenzy was very, very good at his job. Intrusion and communication were his duel specialties, and there were few who could even come close to the hacker’s skill level.
Barricade’s specialty, on the other hand, was lying. Falsehood came to him as easily as breathing. An honest creature by nature, Jazz’s training had no chance against a lifetime of deceit and treachery. Blackout loved corruption; Barricade lived for that one expression of ultimate pain and betrayal.
So the Autobots wanted information. Barricade intended to find out just how far Jazz was willing to go to get it.
x-xxxx-x
And because I got bored:
... I have no excuse.