Of Bindings – Observations
Mar. 22nd, 2009 12:45 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ante_luceTitle: Of Bindings - Observations
'Verse: 2007 Transformers.
Rating: PG
Warnings: ... Nothing I'd raise a fuss over. YMMV.
It was a while before he found the time to consider it (and truthfully, the thought had slipped his processor, overtaken by more pressing matters, such as Jazz’s resurrection and government matters), but they had a free moment, and his databanks had been prodded by the sight of his SIC shooting a halfsparked glare at his Head of Spec Ops, only for the silver mech to grin, play a quick burst of music, then hold up his hands in surrender when Prowl brandished a (scarily bureaucratic and tedious looking) datapad at him.
At no point in time did either say a word. And that was enough to trigger another realisation, hindsight filling in the blanks in all those odd little things that characterised Jazz and Prowl’s interactions with each other.
How they would work on a plan together, for example. Watching the process had always left him a little awed. They’d move about the schematics scattered over whatever workspace they’d claimed like dancers, pre-empting each other’s needs and requests, calling up the necessary displays or data for the other to pore over or point at. One would make a sound, give the other a look, and the other would nod or shake their head, gesturing or murmuring back.
Eavesdropping had not clarified anything, not that anyone had expected it to. It had always been assumed the pair were using a hyper secure comm. band to avoid details from leaking (and after hearing about the events that led to the pair’s bonding, he supposed that reason was true as well). Of course, now that he knew about their situation, it was obvious that they were using secure communications, just, not the one everyone expected them to.
Sparkbonds were impossible to hack, after all.
“Prowl, Jazz, what was that about?”
“Hm? Oh, Prowler’s just being his old, boring, uncultured self.”
“Hardly. I’ll have you know I am capable of enjoying a number of artistic endeavours. However, I did not need to know all 34 versions of the ‘Twelve Days of Christmas’, nor, for that matter, the lyrics to every inane song you come across on the humans’ internet.”
“Mech, the Llama song is a classic.”
“You and I seem to differ on the definition of the term.”
“Look at it this way, at least you’re familiar with those ‘inane songs’ now. Imagine if you came across them accidentally? Your logic processors would take a dive, big time, and Ratchet will chuck a hissy.”
Optimus couldn’t help but chuckle. “I find myself agreeing with Jazz, Prowl.”
The tactician sighed at the Solstice’s triumphant grin. “If it’s all the same to you, Jazz, I would appreciate it if you would stop flooding my CPU with these things. Or would you prefer I return the favour?”
“Fine, fine, you win.”
“So, this would be why you drooped when I made mention of Jazz’s fondness for the humans’ music?”
“Yes.” The longsuffering look on Prowl’s faceplates told him there was more to the story than just Jazz’s enthusiasm. And his prediction was proven correct when the doorwinged mech shot a properly annoyed look at the ‘innocent’ expression of the saboteur.
“Every system he visited, every planet with a sapient species, he’d record or download everything he could about their culture that interested him and bombard me with it.”
“Never know when some of that info might come in handy. You’re a tactician, you need all the data you can get on the places you end up in, and taking in their culture’s pretty much the best way to go about it.”
“There is a difference between pertinent, useful information, and detritus.”
“And… how do you ‘return the favour’?”
At Prowl’s expression to this query, Prime found himself double checking the existence of the tactician’s Autobrand.
“In full and to the best of my ability, sir. Jazz strives to ‘educate’ me on the culture of these societies, and I assist him in reviewing their rules and regulations.”
The Autobot commander stared as Jazz shuddered dramatically. Casually, Prowl tacked on one last salvo.
“All of them.”
'Verse: 2007 Transformers.
Rating: PG
Warnings: ... Nothing I'd raise a fuss over. YMMV.
It was a while before he found the time to consider it (and truthfully, the thought had slipped his processor, overtaken by more pressing matters, such as Jazz’s resurrection and government matters), but they had a free moment, and his databanks had been prodded by the sight of his SIC shooting a halfsparked glare at his Head of Spec Ops, only for the silver mech to grin, play a quick burst of music, then hold up his hands in surrender when Prowl brandished a (scarily bureaucratic and tedious looking) datapad at him.
At no point in time did either say a word. And that was enough to trigger another realisation, hindsight filling in the blanks in all those odd little things that characterised Jazz and Prowl’s interactions with each other.
How they would work on a plan together, for example. Watching the process had always left him a little awed. They’d move about the schematics scattered over whatever workspace they’d claimed like dancers, pre-empting each other’s needs and requests, calling up the necessary displays or data for the other to pore over or point at. One would make a sound, give the other a look, and the other would nod or shake their head, gesturing or murmuring back.
Eavesdropping had not clarified anything, not that anyone had expected it to. It had always been assumed the pair were using a hyper secure comm. band to avoid details from leaking (and after hearing about the events that led to the pair’s bonding, he supposed that reason was true as well). Of course, now that he knew about their situation, it was obvious that they were using secure communications, just, not the one everyone expected them to.
Sparkbonds were impossible to hack, after all.
“Prowl, Jazz, what was that about?”
“Hm? Oh, Prowler’s just being his old, boring, uncultured self.”
“Hardly. I’ll have you know I am capable of enjoying a number of artistic endeavours. However, I did not need to know all 34 versions of the ‘Twelve Days of Christmas’, nor, for that matter, the lyrics to every inane song you come across on the humans’ internet.”
“Mech, the Llama song is a classic.”
“You and I seem to differ on the definition of the term.”
“Look at it this way, at least you’re familiar with those ‘inane songs’ now. Imagine if you came across them accidentally? Your logic processors would take a dive, big time, and Ratchet will chuck a hissy.”
Optimus couldn’t help but chuckle. “I find myself agreeing with Jazz, Prowl.”
The tactician sighed at the Solstice’s triumphant grin. “If it’s all the same to you, Jazz, I would appreciate it if you would stop flooding my CPU with these things. Or would you prefer I return the favour?”
“Fine, fine, you win.”
“So, this would be why you drooped when I made mention of Jazz’s fondness for the humans’ music?”
“Yes.” The longsuffering look on Prowl’s faceplates told him there was more to the story than just Jazz’s enthusiasm. And his prediction was proven correct when the doorwinged mech shot a properly annoyed look at the ‘innocent’ expression of the saboteur.
“Every system he visited, every planet with a sapient species, he’d record or download everything he could about their culture that interested him and bombard me with it.”
“Never know when some of that info might come in handy. You’re a tactician, you need all the data you can get on the places you end up in, and taking in their culture’s pretty much the best way to go about it.”
“There is a difference between pertinent, useful information, and detritus.”
“And… how do you ‘return the favour’?”
At Prowl’s expression to this query, Prime found himself double checking the existence of the tactician’s Autobrand.
“In full and to the best of my ability, sir. Jazz strives to ‘educate’ me on the culture of these societies, and I assist him in reviewing their rules and regulations.”
The Autobot commander stared as Jazz shuddered dramatically. Casually, Prowl tacked on one last salvo.
“All of them.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-21 05:51 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-22 01:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-21 06:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-22 01:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-21 06:37 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-22 01:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-21 07:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-22 01:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-21 08:35 pm (UTC)Prowl and be a scary mother when he wants to be lol
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-22 01:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-21 09:02 pm (UTC)*whistles* Prime you can stop snickering now.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-22 01:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-21 11:13 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-22 01:35 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-22 12:52 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-22 01:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-22 03:53 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-22 01:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-22 07:20 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-22 01:36 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-22 05:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-23 09:07 pm (UTC)Good story. I love your work.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-24 10:47 am (UTC)Thanks! :3
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-24 06:03 am (UTC)Prime checking the Autobrand! SNERK!
(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-24 10:48 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-24 10:56 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-03-24 11:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-20 09:52 am (UTC)Poor Primus, who knows how he'll react when he finally meets these two. Awesome!