![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ante_luceTitle: Secrets of the Groundbound Kind [Part 15 - End]
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
They sent Bluestreak to investigate, Smokescreen tagging along through their trinebond and updating the two Ops mechs camped in his office. The gunner peered into the med bay, and when he didn’t see Ratchet around, crept into the lab and up to the two practically snuggling on a berth. Neither reacted to his presence, which concerned him.
Jazz’s visor was dim and flickering, helm tucked into the hollow of Prowl’s neck and shoulder. The tactician’s arm was about the other’s waist, supporting him, optics just as dull, expression distant. As he got closer, Bluestreak could see the data cable connecting his trinemate to the Porsche, and hear the near inaudible discussion over something about code and sequences. A datapad lay on the berth as well, also linked to the pair, data steadily scribing over it.
“Prowl is helping Jazz with incorporating groundbound coding into his systems.”
“Eep!” The grey Datsun went from hovering to startled, doors coming up high and stiff with surprise. Ratchet smirked at him, gesturing to the two unresponsive mechs.
“I insisted they do so in here where I could keep an eye on them. Jazz got lucky once, I’m not about to let him tempt fate if I can help it.”
“Oh… So why are they…?” Bluestreak waved a hand at the pair, clearly bewildered, and the CMO shrugged.
“They were sitting at first, but as they started going over code… I almost didn’t get to them in time to keep them from falling over, hence the berth and their lying down on it. Pit of a job getting them into a position where they wouldn’t fall off and break the connection. Especially with the slagging doorwings your lot have and neither of them being much use during the process.”
Ratchet shot a glare at the SIC and TIC, still preoccupied with data and code before turning back to the grey Datsun with a sigh. “As inappropriate as this arrangement looks, it’s also the first stable one I wrangled them into.”
“Oh, hey, Blue’. Ratch’, could you look at the changes I’m gonna make?”
Jazz stirred at last, shifting to sit upright as Prowl assisted, both careful mot to dislodge the cables that still connected them, and the medic lifted the datapad from the Ops mech’s grasp, going over the information with a critical optic. The Porsche cycled air tiredly, rubbing his helm as if it ached. Prowl turned to his trinemate with a curious note, and Bluestreak trilled back reproachfully, his anxiety already starting to dissipate. “I couldn’t sense you properly. We were worried.”
“I’m sorry, we hadn’t realised the process would be so consuming.” The SIC beckoned the gunner over, and Bluestreak settled into the partial embrace with a relieved sound as Prowl’s presence in the trine bond strengthened to its normal level.
“Would’ve let you all know beforehand if we did.” Jazz added, sounding distracted as he reconnected with his own trinemates. The sharpshooter nodded.
“Well, alright. But why didn’t ‘Bee go through something similar?”
“Bumblebee’s programming wasn’t as fragged, all he needed were a little housekeeping and a point in the right direction. Jazz has to pick through his processes and see which bits of code to implement or neutralise, and how to make it all run without conflicting.” Ratchet said as he handed the datapad back to the two black and whites. “I’ve highlighted the areas you need to be careful in, but the changes should incorporate just fine.”
“Thanks Doc. Blue’, we’re going under again, ‘kay? Prowl, budge over.” Jazz grinned at the gunner, then prodded the tactician sitting next to him into lying down again. The chevroned black and white sighed, releasing Bluestreak with an apologetic murmur, lifting his chin to let the Ops mech fit properly alongside him. Jazz settled himself against Prowl, and with a quiet cycle of air, both fell silent, optics and visor going dim once more.
= = =
Prowl jacked in, and Jazz waited for the connection with the tactician to initiate, restraining his defensive routines as much as he could (curiously, he didn’t have to try very hard). The moment he sensed the tactician hovering at the edge of his consciousness, as if awaiting an invitation to proceed (even in the intimate setting of processor merge Prowl managed to give off the impression of perfect courtesy), the Ops mech reached out to brush against the other mind. When they made contact, thoughts and ideas and fragments of information flashed between them, mostly data that could and would be ignored right now.
=… So, before we do this, can we talk? =
=What do you want to discuss? =
=I think I know why our trines are plotting. =
=Oh? = Outwardly, neither mech showed any sign of their mental conversation, but Prowl read the Ops mech’s hesitation as easily as he could any of the datapads that crossed his desk every day.
=Guess you’re wondering why I agreed to let you in my head so easily. I thought it was a good opportunity for me to say something, and now that you’re here I want to tell you outright, rather than have you run across it in my CPU at random. = A fleeting impression of shuffling pedes and a coy glancing away, and Jazz evidently gathered the nerve to continue.
=I like you, in the ‘want to jump you in a darkened corridor and frag you until your ability to process code goes to the Pit and takes your damned logic with it’ manner. = There was a noticeable pause, and the Porsche fought and failed to keep the cold touch of apprehension from escaping him. Prowl quickly responded, transmitting a contrite gesture across their shared mindscape for the wait.
=Smokescreen? =
=You don’t sound too surprised. = The thought was curious, and the reply was both amused and almost self-conscious.
=About his choice of words? He was always rather forward about these things. About you liking me? I… might have also guessed why my trinemates were plotting. =
=Ah. =
Jazz could feel Prowl effecting his own drawing up of courage. =They know of my feelings for you, and only reason they’d involve you in their machinations would be if they thought you felt the same way. =
Whatever fear either mech had about making their respective confessions to the other uncurled and faded, leaving only the thought of laughter and a pleased sort of contentment.
=… You realise we probably played right into their hands then? Ahead of schedule too, they didn’t even do anything yet. =
=I find I don’t mind overmuch. =
=Heh. Neither do I. =
Revelations had, and with the agreement to pursue further discussion later, both finally got down to carrying out their original objective, dropping the more private, but rather distracting method of communication through merged thought processes for normal, if hushed, speech.
“So, what’s this subroutine do?”
“It processes data from the sensor net in my chevron.”
“Guess I don’t need it then.”
“Unless you want one yourself, I wouldn’t think so.”
“Nah. I’ll leave looking good with a chevron to you.” Jazz couldn’t resist adding in seeker cant (Ratchet was still in the room, after all). He hadn’t realised it was possible for a mech to blush, and he supposed they still couldn’t, physically at least, but apparently, the effect could be implied in mindscape. He allowed a brief, delighted twitch of lips where they were pressed into Prowl’s shoulder plating, and was rewarded with a softly grumbled note.
“… Flirt.”
= = =
Both black and whites were almost reluctant to come out of the merger, but Bluestreak was present, and Prowl was picking up on the gunner’s worry. And they really ought to check in with Ratchet before modifying any code. Jazz had no desire to cause the medic any more aggravation than he already had.
After reassuring the grey Datsun and clearing things with the CMO, the pair set to work, their task made easier by the first run through they’d done, identifying what needed to be dealt with. They worked swiftly, both driven by the knowledge that the earlier this was over and done with, the sooner they could move on to other activities.
Thus, when their respective trinemates decided to check in on their progress, neither mech was to be found in the med bay.
= = =
Two cars, a Porsche and a Datsun, sped through the Ark’s corridors. One called to the other, sounding concerned.
“Jazz, you have to slow down.”
“I can’t, Prowl. I have to get outside.”
“Why? There’s nothing different about our surroundings from yesterday.”
“Yeah, but I’m different now.”
Jazz skidded to a halt, fishtailing a little. Transforming back to mech form, he stood at the turning that would take him to the doors of the Ark, and outside the base. Prowl drew closer, watching him carefully, then sounding a querying note.
“… Come with me?” An apprehensive quality lurked behind the Ops head’s words, and the tactician immediately nodded.
“Of course.”
Outside, the visored mech stared up at the clear Oregon sky as if looking at it for the first time. Concern growing, Prowl gently murmured his name, drawing the saboteur’s attention almost immediately.
“Is something wrong?”
Jazz looked down, then smiled, then laughed as he took a few steps forward under the cloudless expanse, followed closely by the other black and white. Snagging the tactician’s hand, he tugged Prowl out into the sun, almost dancing with the joy of it.
“Nothing’s wrong, Prowl. Everything’s perfectly fine. The sky doesn’t hurt anymore.”
= = = EndFic = = =
Edit
Huh, looks like I finished this fic without realising it 0_0;; Wow. *thwaps self*
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing.
They sent Bluestreak to investigate, Smokescreen tagging along through their trinebond and updating the two Ops mechs camped in his office. The gunner peered into the med bay, and when he didn’t see Ratchet around, crept into the lab and up to the two practically snuggling on a berth. Neither reacted to his presence, which concerned him.
Jazz’s visor was dim and flickering, helm tucked into the hollow of Prowl’s neck and shoulder. The tactician’s arm was about the other’s waist, supporting him, optics just as dull, expression distant. As he got closer, Bluestreak could see the data cable connecting his trinemate to the Porsche, and hear the near inaudible discussion over something about code and sequences. A datapad lay on the berth as well, also linked to the pair, data steadily scribing over it.
“Prowl is helping Jazz with incorporating groundbound coding into his systems.”
“Eep!” The grey Datsun went from hovering to startled, doors coming up high and stiff with surprise. Ratchet smirked at him, gesturing to the two unresponsive mechs.
“I insisted they do so in here where I could keep an eye on them. Jazz got lucky once, I’m not about to let him tempt fate if I can help it.”
“Oh… So why are they…?” Bluestreak waved a hand at the pair, clearly bewildered, and the CMO shrugged.
“They were sitting at first, but as they started going over code… I almost didn’t get to them in time to keep them from falling over, hence the berth and their lying down on it. Pit of a job getting them into a position where they wouldn’t fall off and break the connection. Especially with the slagging doorwings your lot have and neither of them being much use during the process.”
Ratchet shot a glare at the SIC and TIC, still preoccupied with data and code before turning back to the grey Datsun with a sigh. “As inappropriate as this arrangement looks, it’s also the first stable one I wrangled them into.”
“Oh, hey, Blue’. Ratch’, could you look at the changes I’m gonna make?”
Jazz stirred at last, shifting to sit upright as Prowl assisted, both careful mot to dislodge the cables that still connected them, and the medic lifted the datapad from the Ops mech’s grasp, going over the information with a critical optic. The Porsche cycled air tiredly, rubbing his helm as if it ached. Prowl turned to his trinemate with a curious note, and Bluestreak trilled back reproachfully, his anxiety already starting to dissipate. “I couldn’t sense you properly. We were worried.”
“I’m sorry, we hadn’t realised the process would be so consuming.” The SIC beckoned the gunner over, and Bluestreak settled into the partial embrace with a relieved sound as Prowl’s presence in the trine bond strengthened to its normal level.
“Would’ve let you all know beforehand if we did.” Jazz added, sounding distracted as he reconnected with his own trinemates. The sharpshooter nodded.
“Well, alright. But why didn’t ‘Bee go through something similar?”
“Bumblebee’s programming wasn’t as fragged, all he needed were a little housekeeping and a point in the right direction. Jazz has to pick through his processes and see which bits of code to implement or neutralise, and how to make it all run without conflicting.” Ratchet said as he handed the datapad back to the two black and whites. “I’ve highlighted the areas you need to be careful in, but the changes should incorporate just fine.”
“Thanks Doc. Blue’, we’re going under again, ‘kay? Prowl, budge over.” Jazz grinned at the gunner, then prodded the tactician sitting next to him into lying down again. The chevroned black and white sighed, releasing Bluestreak with an apologetic murmur, lifting his chin to let the Ops mech fit properly alongside him. Jazz settled himself against Prowl, and with a quiet cycle of air, both fell silent, optics and visor going dim once more.
= = =
Prowl jacked in, and Jazz waited for the connection with the tactician to initiate, restraining his defensive routines as much as he could (curiously, he didn’t have to try very hard). The moment he sensed the tactician hovering at the edge of his consciousness, as if awaiting an invitation to proceed (even in the intimate setting of processor merge Prowl managed to give off the impression of perfect courtesy), the Ops mech reached out to brush against the other mind. When they made contact, thoughts and ideas and fragments of information flashed between them, mostly data that could and would be ignored right now.
=… So, before we do this, can we talk? =
=What do you want to discuss? =
=I think I know why our trines are plotting. =
=Oh? = Outwardly, neither mech showed any sign of their mental conversation, but Prowl read the Ops mech’s hesitation as easily as he could any of the datapads that crossed his desk every day.
=Guess you’re wondering why I agreed to let you in my head so easily. I thought it was a good opportunity for me to say something, and now that you’re here I want to tell you outright, rather than have you run across it in my CPU at random. = A fleeting impression of shuffling pedes and a coy glancing away, and Jazz evidently gathered the nerve to continue.
=I like you, in the ‘want to jump you in a darkened corridor and frag you until your ability to process code goes to the Pit and takes your damned logic with it’ manner. = There was a noticeable pause, and the Porsche fought and failed to keep the cold touch of apprehension from escaping him. Prowl quickly responded, transmitting a contrite gesture across their shared mindscape for the wait.
=Smokescreen? =
=You don’t sound too surprised. = The thought was curious, and the reply was both amused and almost self-conscious.
=About his choice of words? He was always rather forward about these things. About you liking me? I… might have also guessed why my trinemates were plotting. =
=Ah. =
Jazz could feel Prowl effecting his own drawing up of courage. =They know of my feelings for you, and only reason they’d involve you in their machinations would be if they thought you felt the same way. =
Whatever fear either mech had about making their respective confessions to the other uncurled and faded, leaving only the thought of laughter and a pleased sort of contentment.
=… You realise we probably played right into their hands then? Ahead of schedule too, they didn’t even do anything yet. =
=I find I don’t mind overmuch. =
=Heh. Neither do I. =
Revelations had, and with the agreement to pursue further discussion later, both finally got down to carrying out their original objective, dropping the more private, but rather distracting method of communication through merged thought processes for normal, if hushed, speech.
“So, what’s this subroutine do?”
“It processes data from the sensor net in my chevron.”
“Guess I don’t need it then.”
“Unless you want one yourself, I wouldn’t think so.”
“Nah. I’ll leave looking good with a chevron to you.” Jazz couldn’t resist adding in seeker cant (Ratchet was still in the room, after all). He hadn’t realised it was possible for a mech to blush, and he supposed they still couldn’t, physically at least, but apparently, the effect could be implied in mindscape. He allowed a brief, delighted twitch of lips where they were pressed into Prowl’s shoulder plating, and was rewarded with a softly grumbled note.
“… Flirt.”
= = =
Both black and whites were almost reluctant to come out of the merger, but Bluestreak was present, and Prowl was picking up on the gunner’s worry. And they really ought to check in with Ratchet before modifying any code. Jazz had no desire to cause the medic any more aggravation than he already had.
After reassuring the grey Datsun and clearing things with the CMO, the pair set to work, their task made easier by the first run through they’d done, identifying what needed to be dealt with. They worked swiftly, both driven by the knowledge that the earlier this was over and done with, the sooner they could move on to other activities.
Thus, when their respective trinemates decided to check in on their progress, neither mech was to be found in the med bay.
= = =
Two cars, a Porsche and a Datsun, sped through the Ark’s corridors. One called to the other, sounding concerned.
“Jazz, you have to slow down.”
“I can’t, Prowl. I have to get outside.”
“Why? There’s nothing different about our surroundings from yesterday.”
“Yeah, but I’m different now.”
Jazz skidded to a halt, fishtailing a little. Transforming back to mech form, he stood at the turning that would take him to the doors of the Ark, and outside the base. Prowl drew closer, watching him carefully, then sounding a querying note.
“… Come with me?” An apprehensive quality lurked behind the Ops head’s words, and the tactician immediately nodded.
“Of course.”
Outside, the visored mech stared up at the clear Oregon sky as if looking at it for the first time. Concern growing, Prowl gently murmured his name, drawing the saboteur’s attention almost immediately.
“Is something wrong?”
Jazz looked down, then smiled, then laughed as he took a few steps forward under the cloudless expanse, followed closely by the other black and white. Snagging the tactician’s hand, he tugged Prowl out into the sun, almost dancing with the joy of it.
“Nothing’s wrong, Prowl. Everything’s perfectly fine. The sky doesn’t hurt anymore.”
Edit
Huh, looks like I finished this fic without realising it 0_0;; Wow. *thwaps self*
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-29 04:51 pm (UTC)If so, lovely... The sky doesn’t hurt anymore.
*wibbles*
beautifully worded, as always my dear.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-30 01:28 pm (UTC)Huh, imagine that. I wrote an ending! (I don't know for sure, but it does look like an ending...)
Glad you like ^_^
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-29 05:50 pm (UTC)*THAT* is one of the reasons I stalk your fiction. You can so succinctly sum up a world of emotion and plot.
I love it.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-30 01:28 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-29 06:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-30 12:53 am (UTC)I loved Jazz's need to get outside, the way you had the confessions play out... it felt very right. Hooray, wonderful chapter! (Also wonderful writer :P)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-30 01:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-30 01:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-29 06:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-30 01:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-29 08:45 pm (UTC)Oh, Jazz. I love the way you ended this.
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-30 01:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-30 01:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-29 10:54 pm (UTC)Though the image of Ratchet trying to play that theater/improve game of 'mannequins' working to keep Jazz and Prowl from falling over is pretty hilarious. <3
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-30 01:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-29 11:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-30 01:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-30 02:57 am (UTC)Just lovely :)
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-30 01:31 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-30 02:57 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-30 01:32 pm (UTC)boo, I don't have swine flu. How boring!~
Date: 2009-06-30 01:11 pm (UTC)That's probably a good thing ^_^ Get well soon though
Date: 2009-06-30 01:33 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-30 02:12 pm (UTC)But regardless it was a wonderful fic! And who knows, maybe you'll need the bunny again, now that there are two trines in the Autobot army >:3
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-30 03:37 pm (UTC)Glad you liked it :3
(no subject)
Date: 2009-06-30 11:41 pm (UTC)*Crashes from post exam exhaustion*
(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-02 10:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-01 08:20 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-07-02 10:06 am (UTC)Primus Dammit! I thought it went through the first time...
Anyways, hooray for Ratchet arranging them so that they were "practically snuggling on a berth" as they both went over Jazz's coding. Kudos on how Jazz figured out what their respective trinemates were plotting and confessing his feelings to Prowl at the same time. Much love for how Prowl returned Jazz's feelings and they both realized that they've played right into their trinemates' hands and don't really mind very much. I *squealed* over how, even in a processor merge, Prowl remains so proper and polite while Jazz shamelessly flirts with him. And I cried at Jazz's last line of how the sky no longer hurts him after incorporating his new codes.
The only thing that made me sadder was that this is apparently the last chapter of an oh-so-wonderful fic. Plus the fact that there was no scene of Skywarp getting some kind of retribution for breaking his first trinebond, getting Duskwing killed, and Jazz forced into a groudpounder frame in the first place. I realized that you are probably very busy with your other bunnies at the moment, but could you, maybe, do an epilogue where Skywarp thinks he's being haunted by the ghosts of his former trinemates? (Courtesy of Hound's holograms, with images supplied by Mirage after finding out from Jazz what he and Duskwing used to look like. Prowl and his trine could help in planning the whole "haunting" thing.)
And for that matter, what was Jazz's original Seeker name, anyway?
Re: Primus Dammit! I thought it went through the first time...
Date: 2009-10-16 04:27 pm (UTC)I'm glad you liked the fic.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-03 06:08 pm (UTC)It's... a bitter-sweet ending for me, although technically a "happy" one. A flighted seeker shouldn't /have/ to give up the skies (*wibble*), although I suppose it's technically better for him to let go of the past.
I can't beleive what Skywarp did. Goit. Skywarp and Thundercracker seem close, though... It would be interesting to see it from his perspective. If nothing else, he would excuses to self-justify.
Enjoyed it :)
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-04 09:51 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-03-11 10:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-03-12 10:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-05-30 03:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-22 02:49 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-10-22 04:06 pm (UTC)Possible 'propriate lyric?
Date: 2011-10-27 12:11 pm (UTC)"Alone doesn't hurt anymore, the pain's too strong to feel it; Alone doesn't work anymore, there's no one left to heal it"
The song itself is called 'Suicide Ride', but those lyrics just struck me as what he was feeling after the reformatting and losing Duskflight, and now "the sky doesn't hurt anymore" - he's healed from the pain, maybe not completely but a long way from where he started.
Re: Possible 'propriate lyric?
Date: 2011-10-31 07:11 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2012-01-07 08:48 pm (UTC)This was such an original idea. The Datsuns being seekerkin was sort of a familiar idea, but the idea that one of the Ops team - let alone all three! - might be in such a position was a real eye opener. They make a sweet trine, and even if Bumblebee was testing Jazz when he said it, the trine bond really will be a useful connection in the long run! I could see the three of them being even more effective and deadly with that advantage.
There were so many things to like about this fic - the interaction between Bee and Raj before they knew what was happening, long-suffering Ratchet, Prowl's bumblepuppy eyes and the way everyone dealt with the revelation... and with both ProwlxJazz and HoundxMirage thrown in. I was half-expecting Jazz's doorwings to put in a reappearance, since they'd been mentioned earlier on, but I'll happily imagine a sequel scene where Jazz lets them out and Prowl helps him... learn to maximise their new programming.
Great writing, as always.
(no subject)
Date: 2012-01-09 03:58 am (UTC)I like that last line too. And a lot of those details just happen to slip into fic, sometimes I don't expect them to show until I write them out ^_^;; Glad you like them.