meme response 4
Nov. 7th, 2011 09:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wicked3659Title: Unexpected
Chapters: 4 of ??
Author: wicked3659
Verse: G1 AU pre-earth
Rating: PG13
Warnings: none this chapter
Prompt: www.youtube.com/watch given by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
vejiraziel
Summary: Jazz is disgruntled that his special ops team are relocated to serve directly under the Prime himself. They work best separated from the rest of the Autobots as an autonomous unit and there’s nobody to answer to but themselves. Jazz finds it the most difficult to adjust to having to answer to Prime’s stuffy and uptight first officer who’s probably never seen a day’s conflict in his sheltered life.
“What was the council’s decision?” Prowl stood stiffly in front of his leader. The injuries he’d suffered at the hands of Soundwave had started to ache but there were more pressing matters to deal with.
“They said no.” Prime replied bluntly, optics narrow above his mask.
Prowl regarded him coolly, he had known Prime long enough to recognise when he was displeased. “You plan to defy them,” he stated simply.
Optimus glanced across at his subordinate and friend with a quirked optic ridge. “Since when have I been so obvious to you?”
“Do you wish to have an actual time frame?”
Smiling faintly at that; Optimus appreciated Prowl’s candour and unique sense of humour.
Breaking the moment, Prowl stepped closer, his sensory panels rising fractionally on his back, a sign Prime knew to be; Prowl taking matters seriously. “If it helps make your decision any easier, I have calculated a fifty four percent chance of failure if you proceed with your plan.”
Prime frowned. “I thought you were supposed to make me feel better, give me confidence.”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be much use to you now would I?”
“So you’re agreeing with the council?” Optimus questioned quietly, barely suppressing a sigh.
Shaking his helm just once, Prowl stood even straighter. “My allegiance is with you, Prime not the council. A fifty four percent chance of failure gives us a forty six percent chance of success. They are not ideal odds but they are workable.”
“What if Jazz helped you?” Optimus asked suddenly.
“Jazz…?” Prowl faltered at the unexpected question. “I don’t see how--”
“--You worked well together despite what happened, the mission was a success.”
“Prime, I don’t think that--”
“--Prowl, whatever it is he has against you or you against him, work through it. His knowledge and skills could help this plan work. His experience is invaluable and as much as you may dislike it, your skills complement each other and we need that in a crisis right now.”
Prowl stiffened visibly, he could not see logically, how working with a mech that had made it quite clear he loathed what he stood for, would help but he was also not in the habit of second guessing his Prime unless he felt it would compromise the mission and threaten lives of Autobots.
Sighing at Prowl’s ensuing silence, Optimus sat at his desk. “I know you might not like it, Prowl but we need all the help we can get. Please don’t make me have to make it an order.” Pinching his nasal bridge, he met Prowl’s unwavering optics, hoping that his reputedly stubborn SIC wouldn’t argue the point.
“As you wish.” Came the bland reply. “I’ll see to it that Ratchet has Jazz report to me as soon as he’s fit for duty.”
Nodding with mild relief, Prime started to speak before Prowl quickly interrupted.
“You should rest, Optimus.”
Optics flickering at the rare use of his name from the officer, Optimus almost began to protest before he caught Prowl’s stern gaze. “…You’re probably right… thank you, Prowl.”
“There’s no probably about it, Prime.”
Optimus looked up in time to see the faintest flicker of a smile grace the black and white’s face, before the mech gave him a respectful half bow and bid him goodnight. Left wondering how long Jazz and Prowl would be able to work together before he had to step in, Optimus dimmed his optics. Given the choice, he would have rather not have had to add to an already volatile situation, but needs must. He only hoped that both mechs remembered that before butting helms once more.
In my head canon, I like to think that Prowl and Optimus have a good working relationship that developed into friendship over time. This reoccurs a lot in my fics. I base the commander and his second on the relationship between the likes of Picard and Riker or Kirk and Spock. Not their personalities but the nuances of their relationship, not to mention the banter :3
****
“How is he?”
“The same as he was the last time you asked.” Ratchet replied, disinterested in Prowl’s pointed look. “He’ll be out in a couple of cycles, alright?”
Prowl gave a nod and glanced over at the berth. “Will he be fit for duty?”
“That all you’re concerned about?” The medic frowned, tired of being the one to always question the Praxian’s priorities.
Optics dimming slightly, Prowl’s gaze drifted over to the other side of the medbay, falling still when they fell onto the frame covered by a blanket, with only an ashen grey arm exposed. “Not all, Ratchet.” Prowl answered softly, his demeanour far more subdued than the medic was used to.
Tilting his helm in a mixture of curiosity and vague concern, Ratchet’s sharp optics studied Prowl closely; something was definitely on his processor, more so than usual. “Everything alright?”
Straightening suddenly as if remembering himself, Prowl met his optics with an impassive stare. “Everything’s fine. Please inform me the klik Jazz wakes up and tell him to report directly to my office.”
Ratchet didn’t even get a chance to respond, the tactician was already gone. “I’m getting too old for this.” He groused. He’d been around long enough to know when something was afoot and given that both Optimus and Red Alert had also been cagey recently, he could only surmise that it did not bode well for them. Sometimes the medic found himself longing for those sedentary, peaceful cycles under the rule of Sentinel Prime but then; even they hadn’t been all that they had seemed.
In this section I wanted to show how much Prowl actually feels, what he keeps hidden from everyone else. As a commander in an Autobot army, he can’t afford to play favourites or show his emotions too often, they can be used against him. Only a very rare few bots ever get to see Prowl with his guard down however slightly. Ratchet is one of them. I like my Ratchet’s to have a demeanour that promotes bots to open up without even thinking about it. I’m not a big fan of angry Ratchet. Grouchy, grumpy sure, but angry – seems unbecoming of a doctor/medic to me.
****
His vision was damaged. Blurry darkness was all about him. Faint shapes and colours flickered through the shadows as static once again filled his audio. He tried to cry out, claw his way to Tracks as the mech exploded in a sudden shower of sparks before him. Anger rushed through him as he tried to track the assailant. The pain was too much and he could only scream as his audio burst with feedback. Suddenly his vision filled with a white, winged light standing between him and the constantly shifting shadows.
Bolting upright in the berth, Jazz gasped as the memory purge faded into the depths of his processor. Visor adjusting to the clinically bright medbay, he gingerly unhooked himself from the machines, immediately alerting a nervous looking medical attendant.
“Y--you need to wait for Chief Ratchet.”
“Like slag.” Jazz growled, stiffly swinging his legs over the side of the berth.
“Not up five kliks and already breaking regulations? A new record… for you.” Came the quiet, almost disdainful tone.
Glancing directly at the invisible mech, Jazz smirked at his fellow spy. “Spyin’ on home territory already, ‘Raj? Is it that bad?” He chuckled, gingerly placing his feet on the floor and standing with a hiss as his frame stretched with a few creaks of his joints.
Shimmering into view, startling the young medical assistant; Mirage stepped forward, his keen optics assessing Jazz’s repairs. “Yes, I believe it is.”
Casting the noble a sidelong glance, Jazz pressed his mouth into a thin line. “I know that look, ‘Raj, what are you not telling me?”
“You really shouldn’t be up yet.” The small medic hovered close to the two special ops ‘bots, feeling and looking more than a little intimidated when a pair of optics and an intently glowing visor locked onto him. “I—I… Ratchet will be here, you must wait,” he stammered nervously.
“Some of us have work t’ do.” Jazz replied, heading for the door with Mirage falling in step beside him.
Clenching his denta the small mech, rushed to the door and stood in their path, his optics bright as he blocked the door. “This is my medbay when Ratchet isn’t here and you will wait for him.”
Now who doesn’t like scary, intimidating Jazz? :D This mech is special ops, a trained killer, spy and soldier. It takes a lot for First Aid to stand up to him but I also I wanted to show that the Autobot army doesn’t have room for bots who are scared of those of their own faction. Nervous maybe, scared, no.
“Is that so?” Jazz mused, a slight smirk quirked his lip components at the sudden audacity of the young medic.
“Brave isn’t he?” Mirage stated, his tone mocking.
“I’m not afraid of you, either of you,” the medic spoke quickly, holding his position. “You think you can come here and work with us and just because you’re from out there means you’re better than us? You have no idea what some of the mechs and femmes have been through that serve under Prime, you’re not the only ones who have had to fight and have lost someone to these, these Decepticons, we’re all on the same side so you don’t have the right to come in here and start pushing us around, just because the higher ups won’t let you get away with murder… We won’t be bullied by the likes of you…”
“Better watch your mouth, littlebit.” Jazz murmured softly once the mech had trailed off from his lecture.
“My name is First Aid and I am assistant medic to Prime and you will follow orders just like everyone else here and Ratchet has given orders to make sure you stay here until he gives you your new orders.”
Sharing a glance with Mirage; Jazz advanced on the slightly smaller ‘bot. “New orders huh?”
“I—umm…”
“—‘Raj, you don’t need to stick around, I’ll catch up with you later.” Jazz tugged the ‘bot forward eliciting a squeak from the medic’s vocaliser and casually draped his arm about his shoulders throwing Mirage a sly wink of his visor.
“But Jazz, I do need to speak to you about our issue wi –“
“—I trust you to deal with the issue.” Jazz replied. “Report to me once you know more, alright?” Meeting the noble’s optics, he gave Mirage a subtle nod and the spy was gone once more, leaving Jazz to torment the medic in his own unique fashion. “Now, littlebit, you and I, we’re going t’ have a talk.”
The conversation between Jazz and Mirage I wanted to be a little vague, I don’t like giving up too much plot away too early. It helps give me a little room to breathe should the story take a twist later on down the road. Also I wanted to show the differences between their relationship and that between Prowl and Optimus. There’s a different level of trust, of respect here and yet both with that same ingrained comfort of the other.
“Put, my medic, down.”
Jazz flinched as Ratchet’s characteristic growl filled the medbay. Looking over his shoulder he grinned widely at him, promptly releasing First Aid who looked more than a little relieved to see his senior officer.
“Ratch’, First Aid here was just explaining how I was good t’ go.”
“I’m sure he was.” Ratchet stated, a single optic ridge rising above a sceptical optic, his arms folding over his chest.
“Cadet’s honour.” Jazz grinned cockily, leaning against the edge of a berth.
“Hmpff, as it stands, you are ‘good to go’, but know this; your new orders are to report to Prowl directly and I don’t want to see either of you ending up back in here, do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal, doc.” Jazz murmured, a slight frown marring his faceplates. “Any idea what the glitch wants?”
Ratchet took a step forward, his tone matching the seriousness of his glare. “That glitch is your commander and Prime’s second. I don’t care what you think of him, or what you call him outside of this medbay, but in here; you show some respect.” The medic leaned closer, his glare silencing the special ops mech before he had a chance to protest. “That mech saved your life. Get used to it. Now get out of my medbay.”
“Wi’ pleasure.” Jazz muttered, stalking his way to the door without even a second glance.
First Aid wilted against the berth with a hefty sigh, stealing a glance at his superior. “Prowl has his work cut out for him, doesn’t he?”
Ratchet huffed as he stared at the medbay doors, his helm shaking slowly. “With them two defects in the same room? Primus help us all.”
Here’s my favourite medic again. He is more perceptive and sees more than others know and probably want him to. He can tell there’s something between Prowl and Jazz. We’re not talking attraction at this point, but there is definitely strong emotions between them. Jazz can’t stand not being able to figure out a bot at first glance and Prowl doesn’t like Jazz’s methods and thinks he and his team are reckless and dangerous to the safety of other bots he’s sworn to protect. These two are going to clash, and they’re going to clash hard and Ratchet knows it, I daresay he’s seen it between two others before – but that would be telling now wouldn’t it? ;) Don’t want to spoil all my surprises just yet.
Chapters: 4 of ??
Author: wicked3659
Verse: G1 AU pre-earth
Rating: PG13
Warnings: none this chapter
Prompt: www.youtube.com/watch given by
vejirazielSummary: Jazz is disgruntled that his special ops team are relocated to serve directly under the Prime himself. They work best separated from the rest of the Autobots as an autonomous unit and there’s nobody to answer to but themselves. Jazz finds it the most difficult to adjust to having to answer to Prime’s stuffy and uptight first officer who’s probably never seen a day’s conflict in his sheltered life.
“What was the council’s decision?” Prowl stood stiffly in front of his leader. The injuries he’d suffered at the hands of Soundwave had started to ache but there were more pressing matters to deal with.
“They said no.” Prime replied bluntly, optics narrow above his mask.
Prowl regarded him coolly, he had known Prime long enough to recognise when he was displeased. “You plan to defy them,” he stated simply.
Optimus glanced across at his subordinate and friend with a quirked optic ridge. “Since when have I been so obvious to you?”
“Do you wish to have an actual time frame?”
Smiling faintly at that; Optimus appreciated Prowl’s candour and unique sense of humour.
Breaking the moment, Prowl stepped closer, his sensory panels rising fractionally on his back, a sign Prime knew to be; Prowl taking matters seriously. “If it helps make your decision any easier, I have calculated a fifty four percent chance of failure if you proceed with your plan.”
Prime frowned. “I thought you were supposed to make me feel better, give me confidence.”
“If I did, I wouldn’t be much use to you now would I?”
“So you’re agreeing with the council?” Optimus questioned quietly, barely suppressing a sigh.
Shaking his helm just once, Prowl stood even straighter. “My allegiance is with you, Prime not the council. A fifty four percent chance of failure gives us a forty six percent chance of success. They are not ideal odds but they are workable.”
“What if Jazz helped you?” Optimus asked suddenly.
“Jazz…?” Prowl faltered at the unexpected question. “I don’t see how--”
“--You worked well together despite what happened, the mission was a success.”
“Prime, I don’t think that--”
“--Prowl, whatever it is he has against you or you against him, work through it. His knowledge and skills could help this plan work. His experience is invaluable and as much as you may dislike it, your skills complement each other and we need that in a crisis right now.”
Prowl stiffened visibly, he could not see logically, how working with a mech that had made it quite clear he loathed what he stood for, would help but he was also not in the habit of second guessing his Prime unless he felt it would compromise the mission and threaten lives of Autobots.
Sighing at Prowl’s ensuing silence, Optimus sat at his desk. “I know you might not like it, Prowl but we need all the help we can get. Please don’t make me have to make it an order.” Pinching his nasal bridge, he met Prowl’s unwavering optics, hoping that his reputedly stubborn SIC wouldn’t argue the point.
“As you wish.” Came the bland reply. “I’ll see to it that Ratchet has Jazz report to me as soon as he’s fit for duty.”
Nodding with mild relief, Prime started to speak before Prowl quickly interrupted.
“You should rest, Optimus.”
Optics flickering at the rare use of his name from the officer, Optimus almost began to protest before he caught Prowl’s stern gaze. “…You’re probably right… thank you, Prowl.”
“There’s no probably about it, Prime.”
Optimus looked up in time to see the faintest flicker of a smile grace the black and white’s face, before the mech gave him a respectful half bow and bid him goodnight. Left wondering how long Jazz and Prowl would be able to work together before he had to step in, Optimus dimmed his optics. Given the choice, he would have rather not have had to add to an already volatile situation, but needs must. He only hoped that both mechs remembered that before butting helms once more.
In my head canon, I like to think that Prowl and Optimus have a good working relationship that developed into friendship over time. This reoccurs a lot in my fics. I base the commander and his second on the relationship between the likes of Picard and Riker or Kirk and Spock. Not their personalities but the nuances of their relationship, not to mention the banter :3
****
“How is he?”
“The same as he was the last time you asked.” Ratchet replied, disinterested in Prowl’s pointed look. “He’ll be out in a couple of cycles, alright?”
Prowl gave a nod and glanced over at the berth. “Will he be fit for duty?”
“That all you’re concerned about?” The medic frowned, tired of being the one to always question the Praxian’s priorities.
Optics dimming slightly, Prowl’s gaze drifted over to the other side of the medbay, falling still when they fell onto the frame covered by a blanket, with only an ashen grey arm exposed. “Not all, Ratchet.” Prowl answered softly, his demeanour far more subdued than the medic was used to.
Tilting his helm in a mixture of curiosity and vague concern, Ratchet’s sharp optics studied Prowl closely; something was definitely on his processor, more so than usual. “Everything alright?”
Straightening suddenly as if remembering himself, Prowl met his optics with an impassive stare. “Everything’s fine. Please inform me the klik Jazz wakes up and tell him to report directly to my office.”
Ratchet didn’t even get a chance to respond, the tactician was already gone. “I’m getting too old for this.” He groused. He’d been around long enough to know when something was afoot and given that both Optimus and Red Alert had also been cagey recently, he could only surmise that it did not bode well for them. Sometimes the medic found himself longing for those sedentary, peaceful cycles under the rule of Sentinel Prime but then; even they hadn’t been all that they had seemed.
In this section I wanted to show how much Prowl actually feels, what he keeps hidden from everyone else. As a commander in an Autobot army, he can’t afford to play favourites or show his emotions too often, they can be used against him. Only a very rare few bots ever get to see Prowl with his guard down however slightly. Ratchet is one of them. I like my Ratchet’s to have a demeanour that promotes bots to open up without even thinking about it. I’m not a big fan of angry Ratchet. Grouchy, grumpy sure, but angry – seems unbecoming of a doctor/medic to me.
****
His vision was damaged. Blurry darkness was all about him. Faint shapes and colours flickered through the shadows as static once again filled his audio. He tried to cry out, claw his way to Tracks as the mech exploded in a sudden shower of sparks before him. Anger rushed through him as he tried to track the assailant. The pain was too much and he could only scream as his audio burst with feedback. Suddenly his vision filled with a white, winged light standing between him and the constantly shifting shadows.
Bolting upright in the berth, Jazz gasped as the memory purge faded into the depths of his processor. Visor adjusting to the clinically bright medbay, he gingerly unhooked himself from the machines, immediately alerting a nervous looking medical attendant.
“Y--you need to wait for Chief Ratchet.”
“Like slag.” Jazz growled, stiffly swinging his legs over the side of the berth.
“Not up five kliks and already breaking regulations? A new record… for you.” Came the quiet, almost disdainful tone.
Glancing directly at the invisible mech, Jazz smirked at his fellow spy. “Spyin’ on home territory already, ‘Raj? Is it that bad?” He chuckled, gingerly placing his feet on the floor and standing with a hiss as his frame stretched with a few creaks of his joints.
Shimmering into view, startling the young medical assistant; Mirage stepped forward, his keen optics assessing Jazz’s repairs. “Yes, I believe it is.”
Casting the noble a sidelong glance, Jazz pressed his mouth into a thin line. “I know that look, ‘Raj, what are you not telling me?”
“You really shouldn’t be up yet.” The small medic hovered close to the two special ops ‘bots, feeling and looking more than a little intimidated when a pair of optics and an intently glowing visor locked onto him. “I—I… Ratchet will be here, you must wait,” he stammered nervously.
“Some of us have work t’ do.” Jazz replied, heading for the door with Mirage falling in step beside him.
Clenching his denta the small mech, rushed to the door and stood in their path, his optics bright as he blocked the door. “This is my medbay when Ratchet isn’t here and you will wait for him.”
Now who doesn’t like scary, intimidating Jazz? :D This mech is special ops, a trained killer, spy and soldier. It takes a lot for First Aid to stand up to him but I also I wanted to show that the Autobot army doesn’t have room for bots who are scared of those of their own faction. Nervous maybe, scared, no.
“Is that so?” Jazz mused, a slight smirk quirked his lip components at the sudden audacity of the young medic.
“Brave isn’t he?” Mirage stated, his tone mocking.
“I’m not afraid of you, either of you,” the medic spoke quickly, holding his position. “You think you can come here and work with us and just because you’re from out there means you’re better than us? You have no idea what some of the mechs and femmes have been through that serve under Prime, you’re not the only ones who have had to fight and have lost someone to these, these Decepticons, we’re all on the same side so you don’t have the right to come in here and start pushing us around, just because the higher ups won’t let you get away with murder… We won’t be bullied by the likes of you…”
“Better watch your mouth, littlebit.” Jazz murmured softly once the mech had trailed off from his lecture.
“My name is First Aid and I am assistant medic to Prime and you will follow orders just like everyone else here and Ratchet has given orders to make sure you stay here until he gives you your new orders.”
Sharing a glance with Mirage; Jazz advanced on the slightly smaller ‘bot. “New orders huh?”
“I—umm…”
“—‘Raj, you don’t need to stick around, I’ll catch up with you later.” Jazz tugged the ‘bot forward eliciting a squeak from the medic’s vocaliser and casually draped his arm about his shoulders throwing Mirage a sly wink of his visor.
“But Jazz, I do need to speak to you about our issue wi –“
“—I trust you to deal with the issue.” Jazz replied. “Report to me once you know more, alright?” Meeting the noble’s optics, he gave Mirage a subtle nod and the spy was gone once more, leaving Jazz to torment the medic in his own unique fashion. “Now, littlebit, you and I, we’re going t’ have a talk.”
The conversation between Jazz and Mirage I wanted to be a little vague, I don’t like giving up too much plot away too early. It helps give me a little room to breathe should the story take a twist later on down the road. Also I wanted to show the differences between their relationship and that between Prowl and Optimus. There’s a different level of trust, of respect here and yet both with that same ingrained comfort of the other.
“Put, my medic, down.”
Jazz flinched as Ratchet’s characteristic growl filled the medbay. Looking over his shoulder he grinned widely at him, promptly releasing First Aid who looked more than a little relieved to see his senior officer.
“Ratch’, First Aid here was just explaining how I was good t’ go.”
“I’m sure he was.” Ratchet stated, a single optic ridge rising above a sceptical optic, his arms folding over his chest.
“Cadet’s honour.” Jazz grinned cockily, leaning against the edge of a berth.
“Hmpff, as it stands, you are ‘good to go’, but know this; your new orders are to report to Prowl directly and I don’t want to see either of you ending up back in here, do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal, doc.” Jazz murmured, a slight frown marring his faceplates. “Any idea what the glitch wants?”
Ratchet took a step forward, his tone matching the seriousness of his glare. “That glitch is your commander and Prime’s second. I don’t care what you think of him, or what you call him outside of this medbay, but in here; you show some respect.” The medic leaned closer, his glare silencing the special ops mech before he had a chance to protest. “That mech saved your life. Get used to it. Now get out of my medbay.”
“Wi’ pleasure.” Jazz muttered, stalking his way to the door without even a second glance.
First Aid wilted against the berth with a hefty sigh, stealing a glance at his superior. “Prowl has his work cut out for him, doesn’t he?”
Ratchet huffed as he stared at the medbay doors, his helm shaking slowly. “With them two defects in the same room? Primus help us all.”
Here’s my favourite medic again. He is more perceptive and sees more than others know and probably want him to. He can tell there’s something between Prowl and Jazz. We’re not talking attraction at this point, but there is definitely strong emotions between them. Jazz can’t stand not being able to figure out a bot at first glance and Prowl doesn’t like Jazz’s methods and thinks he and his team are reckless and dangerous to the safety of other bots he’s sworn to protect. These two are going to clash, and they’re going to clash hard and Ratchet knows it, I daresay he’s seen it between two others before – but that would be telling now wouldn’t it? ;) Don’t want to spoil all my surprises just yet.
