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Dec '08 PxJ challenge - Where there is doubt, faith
For the December '08 Christmas Challenge on the PxJ comm.
Title: Mission - Encouragement
'Verse: G1 Transformers. Mission‘verse
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF Cussing.
Prompt: Where there is doubt, faith
“Hey, Prowl! Congratulations!”
“Thank you, Jazz.”
“Hm? What’s the matter? You just got the biggest promotion of them all. Sentinel Prime’s Second isn’t a post to sniff at.”
The doorwinged mech stopped dead, arms crossed in front of him. “I know.”
Jazz peered at the tactician. “Prowl? You alright?”
“I’m fine.”
“No you’re not. C’mere.”
“Jazz! I have to pack!” The mech protested as he found himself dragged along by his friend.
“I know you. You were done with what little you have the cycle you got the transfer papers.”
“My office-”
“Is also cleared. You’re the most efficient mech I know, Prowler, and the only reason I’d find you staring out into space was if you had nothing else to physically do, and too much running through your processors.”
The tactician said no more as the Special Ops mech hauled him through the base and towards the saboteur’s quarters. Once there, Jazz nudged him into sitting down on the berth, and pushed an energon cube into his hands. Acting on autopilot, he took a sip and shuttered his optics briefly at the energy rush he felt. The visored mech smirked at him.
“Haven’t refuelled at all this cycle again, Prowl?”
“I was… preoccupied.”
Jazz snorted. “Least you aren’t pulling the ‘I’m fine’ slag on me again.”
“You never accept it as a response anyway.”
“‘Cos it’s never true when you say it. Now, what’s eating your CPU? It’s a promotion, you should be thrilled. Frag, nearly all the mechs on this base are thrilled for you. They’re convinced you’ll single handedly quell the ‘little Decepticon uprising’.”
Prowl’s doorwings twitched erratically, and the Special Ops mech stared at them. He’d never seen the chevroned mech so wound up before. Sitting beside his friend, he gently stroked the nearest wing, stilling the anxious flutters. Softly, Jazz murmured in a reassuring tone.
“You’re one of the best tacticians we have, and you’re pretty handy with all the slagging paperwork the higher ups need to deal with. You got the whole package, mech. No one is expecting you to charge into the ‘Cons stronghold and bring back Megatron’s head, but I’m surprised High Command didn’t snag you earlier.”
“I’ve been rejecting the promotion for a while.”
“What?”
“I… Being Prime’s Second is a huge step up in terms of responsibility.”
“That isn’t a problem for you, s’far as I can tell.”
“I’ll be handling the affairs of the whole army, not just one base. Everyone will be depending on me to make the right decisions and give the appropriate advice. What if I’m not up to the task?”
“Prowler, they wouldn’t have gone after you, and kept going after you if they weren’t absolutely sure you were the slagging best.”
Doubtful optics met a visor, and Jazz stopped stroking the mech’s doorwing, and moved his hand over to Prowl’s shoulder, clasping it firmly.
“You’re gonna be the best Second the Prime will ever have. The higher ups know that, the grunts know that, and I know that.” Saboteur locked optics with tactician. “Hey, you trust me, right?”
Prowl nodded.
“Then believe me when I say I have faith in you.”
The chevroned mech stared, then a faint smile tugged at his lips. “And you’re always right, aren’t you.”
“Damn straight.”
“Jazz, thank you.”
“S’what friends are for, right? Don’t worry too much, you’ll be fine.” Jazz patted the other mech on the shoulder. “I’m gonna miss you though.”
“As will I, who else will make sure I remember to refuel?”
“Sneaky fragger. Now I have to land my aft in High Command too, don’t I?”
“Yes.” Prowl smirked, and Jazz laughed.
“Fine, finish that energon. We got a party being thrown in your honour, and you’re not getting out of attending.”
Title: Mission - Encouragement
'Verse: G1 Transformers. Mission‘verse
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF Cussing.
Prompt: Where there is doubt, faith
“Hey, Prowl! Congratulations!”
“Thank you, Jazz.”
“Hm? What’s the matter? You just got the biggest promotion of them all. Sentinel Prime’s Second isn’t a post to sniff at.”
The doorwinged mech stopped dead, arms crossed in front of him. “I know.”
Jazz peered at the tactician. “Prowl? You alright?”
“I’m fine.”
“No you’re not. C’mere.”
“Jazz! I have to pack!” The mech protested as he found himself dragged along by his friend.
“I know you. You were done with what little you have the cycle you got the transfer papers.”
“My office-”
“Is also cleared. You’re the most efficient mech I know, Prowler, and the only reason I’d find you staring out into space was if you had nothing else to physically do, and too much running through your processors.”
The tactician said no more as the Special Ops mech hauled him through the base and towards the saboteur’s quarters. Once there, Jazz nudged him into sitting down on the berth, and pushed an energon cube into his hands. Acting on autopilot, he took a sip and shuttered his optics briefly at the energy rush he felt. The visored mech smirked at him.
“Haven’t refuelled at all this cycle again, Prowl?”
“I was… preoccupied.”
Jazz snorted. “Least you aren’t pulling the ‘I’m fine’ slag on me again.”
“You never accept it as a response anyway.”
“‘Cos it’s never true when you say it. Now, what’s eating your CPU? It’s a promotion, you should be thrilled. Frag, nearly all the mechs on this base are thrilled for you. They’re convinced you’ll single handedly quell the ‘little Decepticon uprising’.”
Prowl’s doorwings twitched erratically, and the Special Ops mech stared at them. He’d never seen the chevroned mech so wound up before. Sitting beside his friend, he gently stroked the nearest wing, stilling the anxious flutters. Softly, Jazz murmured in a reassuring tone.
“You’re one of the best tacticians we have, and you’re pretty handy with all the slagging paperwork the higher ups need to deal with. You got the whole package, mech. No one is expecting you to charge into the ‘Cons stronghold and bring back Megatron’s head, but I’m surprised High Command didn’t snag you earlier.”
“I’ve been rejecting the promotion for a while.”
“What?”
“I… Being Prime’s Second is a huge step up in terms of responsibility.”
“That isn’t a problem for you, s’far as I can tell.”
“I’ll be handling the affairs of the whole army, not just one base. Everyone will be depending on me to make the right decisions and give the appropriate advice. What if I’m not up to the task?”
“Prowler, they wouldn’t have gone after you, and kept going after you if they weren’t absolutely sure you were the slagging best.”
Doubtful optics met a visor, and Jazz stopped stroking the mech’s doorwing, and moved his hand over to Prowl’s shoulder, clasping it firmly.
“You’re gonna be the best Second the Prime will ever have. The higher ups know that, the grunts know that, and I know that.” Saboteur locked optics with tactician. “Hey, you trust me, right?”
Prowl nodded.
“Then believe me when I say I have faith in you.”
The chevroned mech stared, then a faint smile tugged at his lips. “And you’re always right, aren’t you.”
“Damn straight.”
“Jazz, thank you.”
“S’what friends are for, right? Don’t worry too much, you’ll be fine.” Jazz patted the other mech on the shoulder. “I’m gonna miss you though.”
“As will I, who else will make sure I remember to refuel?”
“Sneaky fragger. Now I have to land my aft in High Command too, don’t I?”
“Yes.” Prowl smirked, and Jazz laughed.
“Fine, finish that energon. We got a party being thrown in your honour, and you’re not getting out of attending.”