Younglings and Mechs (Part 3 - End)
Jan. 7th, 2010 11:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ante_luceTitle: Younglings and Mechs (Part 3 - End)
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Characters: Bluestreak. Prowl. Jazz.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing
He onlined to a dark room, and sat up to find Prowl still in recharge on the berth across from him. Checking his chronometer, Bluestreak tried to work out what time it was, and had to reboot his optics in shock when he realised he’d been in the Ark for at least three of the planet’s cycles.
Granted, they were shorter than Cybertron’s, but three cycles was still a long time to be away. Especially if his creators didn’t know where he was. Bluestreak curled up on his little cot, trying to keep quiet and not disturb the tactician’s rest.
He hadn’t thought about his creators much in the last two days. There was always something new to see or do, or someone to talk to, and Prowl was always there, making him feel as safe as he would be in his own home. Now he wondered if his creators thought he’d run away, or if he’d ended up stolen or deactivated somewhere.
Were they worried about him? They had to be. They were his creators.
Were they trying to find him? They were probably tearing Praxus apart looking for him, and all Bluestreak had done in return was play vidgames and run around making a nuisance of himself.
He pressed his helm against the surface of the cot, his frame racked with the effort of keeping his distress muted. Suddenly, strong arms were gathering him up and holding him close, and someone was rubbing his back and doorwings soothingly. But it was wrong, it felt wrong. There ought to be two bots with him, making him feel better.
Then there were two bots, the second humming low and soft, petting his helm tenderly while the other continued to hold him and rub his back. He reached out to the humming one, and was pulled into a tight hug.
But then the other bot moved away, and he turned in a blind panic to call them back. Someone murmured comfortingly into his audio as he felt himself surrounded once more by both bots, and he calmed, shuttering his optics as he felt them moving.
They lay him down and he stirred fitfully, not wanting to be left alone, but then the two lay down with him, shuffling about until all three of them fit together like pieces in a puzzle, and it was enough like being tucked between his creators after a bad recharge period that he soon fell offline once more.
= = =
Bluestreak woke tucked close to Prowl’s front, and onlined his optics to see Jazz sitting on the berth with them, his expression strange and unreadable, visor fixed on the tactician as the chevroned mech recharged. Then the mech was looking at him, smiling as he held a finger to his lips, indicating the still offline Prowl with a tilt of his head. When he nodded in understanding, Jazz rose and left Prowl’s quarters in complete silence.
He watched as the door slid shut on Jazz’s back, and looked up at Prowl to see that the mech’s optics were lit and staring at the door as well. Then without a word, the tactician sat up, helped him down from the berth, and started his preparations for the day. The youngling could have thrown a tantrum out of sheer frustration. Why were they refusing to cooperate?!
As he walked to the rec. room with Prowl to get some energon, Bluestreak flicked his doors in resolute determination. The two mechs had been willing to put aside their fight to comfort him. Time to see if he couldn’t use that to get them to spend some more time together.
= = =
His chance came when Bumblebee found them in the rec room and offered to keep him company again today. As soon as the tactician tried to leave him with the yellow minibot, he attached himself to the black and white mech’s leg like an abandoned turbohound pup. Prowl tried to gently dislodge him, but Bluestreak only clung even tighter.
“Bluestreak, I need to go to my office.”
He lifted his face to look up at Prowl, then hid it against the mech’s plating once more, wrapping his arms about the tactician’s leg as if he could keep the other in place that way.
Prowl sighed, then picked him up, just as Bluestreak had hoped he would. He laid his helm on the mech’s shoulder, shifting one arm to curl around Prowl’s neck as the mech asked him what was wrong. Bluestreak shook his head mutely, and heard Prowl thank the Bumblebee for his offer before moving to one side of the rec. room.
“Bluestreak, are you feeling well?”
He nodded, then mumbled into the tactician’s neck cables.
“Can you… stay with me today?” Not letting the older mech reply just yet Bluestreak added, because he felt guilty about asking Prowl to skip work, “Just for a while, please?”
There was another sigh as Prowl agreed, and hardly daring to believe his luck, Bluestreak pushed a little more.
“… Can Jazz stay with us too?”
“Stay where?”
Bluestreak looked up from Prowl’s shoulder to see the visored black and white looking at him in concern. Jazz smiled at him, then spoke to Prowl, explaining his sudden presence.
“Bumblebee came and got me.” The mech returned his gaze to the youngling in Prowl’s arms. “Heard you were upset about something, Blue’. Was it anything to do with last night?”
It had everything and nothing to do with the last night, but he couldn’t say that, so instead he tried to burrow deeper into Prowl’s neck. Jazz rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it an understanding squeeze.
“I know you miss your creators. We’re working on getting you back, so just hang on a little longer, okay?”
The visored mech’s words just made his spark hurt again, unintentional as their effect might be, and he didn’t have to fake the sniffle that escaped him at the mention of his creators. Jazz soothed him, stroking his helm as Prowl tentatively asked if the other black and white was free to spend the next hour or so with them.
“I am. What’ve you got planned?”
“It was a rather spur of the moment decision.” The tactician replied, then added with a faint smile. “Then again, those are your speciality, aren’t they, Jazz?”
Surprised by the sudden show of humour from the doorwinged mech, Jazz let out a startled laugh. “Don’t tell me I’m finally starting to rub off on you.”
“I’m going to Hoist to get it looked at as soon as I have a spare moment.”
The older chevroned mech’s dry comment had Bluestreak smiling. Jazz caught the youngling’s improved mood and shot Prowl a quick triumphant grin, before smirking at the tactician.
“A spare moment? You have spare moments? More importantly, you’ve heard of the term? I can’t believe my audios. Someone notify the media.”
Bluestreak smiled again at Jazz’s dramatics, and the mech flashed his visor playfully at him before circling the two doorwinged bots thoughtfully.
“But anyway, now that I have you in my clutches, what do I do with you two?”
“I dread to think of what you might come up with.”
“You just gave me free reign over your next hour. No take backs.” Jazz waved a finger admonishingly at the tactician, and Prowl glanced upwards for a moment.
“Primus preserve me.”
“You know you love me, Prowler.”
Prowl went still at the visored mech’s offhand rebuttal, and Jazz drew back almost reflexively, his grin faltering for a moment. Bluestreak bit back a sigh and wriggled free of the tactician’s hold, breaking the awkward moment, then grabbed Jazz’s hand, making the black and white mech look down at him enquiringly. Rocking on his pedes a little, he plastered the most endearing look he could muster onto his faceplates and asked.
“Can I see your room, Jazz?”
Jazz agreed immediately, seeming nearly relieved for the distraction. Bluestreak reached for Prowl’s hand as well, linking all three of them together (the way things were going, the tactician might ‘accidentally’ get left behind on the way to Jazz’s quarters), then turned back to the visored mech with a bright smile. Jazz chuckled wryly, then started walking, Bluestreak and Prowl easily falling into place beside him.
= = =
Jazz’s quarters were not like Prowl’s. The visored mech had a lot more stuff on his shelves and tables, and he even had some brightly coloured pictures on his walls. Bluestreak took in his surroundings with wide optics. Though it looked lived in, compared to Jazz’s room, Prowl’s was really quite bare.
Before he could contemplate this any further, Jazz returned from rummaging through his shelves for something, holding a disc up so they could see it. The title of the vid was unfamiliar to Bluestreak, but it seemed that Prowl had seen it before, because the tactician raised an optic ridge at the visored mech. Jazz laughed lightly.
“Don’t worry, Prowl. If your processors freeze up, I’ll tell the doc it was my fault.” The doorwinged mech made an unconvinced sort of sound, and Jazz huffed good naturedly at him as he set up the vid. “I promise, ‘kay? Now hush and grab a seat, the show’s starting.”
The visored mech turned around to find both doorwinged mechs already settled on his berth. Bluestreak waved at him, grinning, and Jazz shook his head, taking the place obviously reserved for him on the other side of the youngling.
As the vid played, Bluestreak brought the latest element of his plan into full swing. He started to fidget, drawing puzzled looks from the two black and whites mechs. Then he jumped up, pulling Prowl across so that the tactician was seated right next to Jazz, and perched himself atop both mechs’ knees. The grey youngling wiggled to make himself comfortable on his new seat, then leant back against the both of them with a satisfied hum.
Behind him, he could feel both Jazz and Prowl going tense, but didn’t budge from his position. Pointing to the screen, he started asking random questions, most of which Jazz answered, with Prowl adding a comment or two. Eventually, amidst the background sound of the vid and the lively discussion between the three of them, the two mechs started to relax, and Bluestreak delighted in his plan’s effectiveness.
= = =
The vid had not yet finished when the two bots suddenly tensed again. Prowl broke off mid-sentence, then directed an apologetic look at Bluestreak before sliding the youngling fully over to the visored mech’s lap and rising from the berth.
“I’m sorry. There’s something that requires my attention right now.”
Jazz was silent as Bluestreak nodded in understanding, and Prowl left the room, his steps slightly hurried. The grey youngling directed his gaze to the vid, but he wasn’t watching the show any longer. What had gone wrong now? They’d been doing so well, and had even started to lean against each other like it was only normal for bondmates to.
Then something his creators had drilled into him ran through his processor, and he almost smacked himself for not realising the big flaw in his strategy.
You couldn’t end a fight without saying ‘sorry’ first. He didn’t know why Prowl and Jazz were fighting, and without that knowledge, it was going to be very difficult to get them to apologise to each other.
Focusing doggedly in front of him, Bluestreak decided it was time for another modification to his plan.
= = =
The vid had ended and Jazz was putting away the disc when he spoke up, quietly plaintive.
“Jazz, why are you fighting with Prowl?”
“Wha? We’re not fighting, Blue’.”
The visored mech whipped around, stunned, and Bluestreak crossed his arms. Sometimes, his creators tried to hide their fights from him too.
“If Prowl needs to apologise first, I could ask him to. Or I could tell him that you’re sorry for you.”
As much as he wanted to believe that neither mech had done anything wrong, they didn’t seem like the type to get mad over something petty either. If their fight was this bad, then it must have been over something big. Jazz sighed and sat next to him, looking at him seriously.
“Bluestreak, I’m cool with Prowl. And as far as I know, I haven’t annoyed him to the point where you could consider him angry at me.”
Bluestreak frowned. Jazz didn’t sound like he was trying to make him feel better by pretending everything was fine.
“But… aren’t bondmates supposed to stay together?”
“Huh?”
The visored mech looked completely thrown by Bluestreak’s question, but the youngling kept going, desperate to understand the situation. “You don’t stay together. If you’re not fighting, why don’t you?”
Jazz took hold of his shoulders and gently replied. “Me and Prowl aren’t bonded, Bluestreak.”
They… weren’t? Bewildered, Bluestreak said the first thing that came to his processors. “Your paint jobs are the same!”
Jazz sighed again. “Oh boy. I’m glad you didn’t run into Cliffjumper or Sideswipe first. Bondmates don’t have to be identical, you know.”
“But… Prowl smiles when he sees you.”
The visored mech chuckled softly at that, rubbing a thumb over Bluestreak’s cheek affectionately.
“I’m pretty sure he smiles at you too.”
Bluestreak shook his head insistently. He knew the difference. “Not like he does at you! He likes you! And you let him stand closer to you than anyone else! Don’t you like him?”
Jazz hesitated, looking away and muttering lowly. “Out of the mouths of babes...” Then the black and white mech glanced back up. “I do, Bluestreak, but we’re friends, that’s all. I’m very different from Prowl.”
“You just said that bondmates don’t have to be identical!” Bluestreak pointed out, and the mech shrugged.
“Yeah, but I don’t think Prowl would be interested in a mech like me.”
Bluestreak leapt to his pedes, thoroughly agitated now, evading the mech’s attempts to calm him, turning to get out of the room so he could find Prowl, bring him here and prove Jazz wrong. But Prowl was already standing in the doorway, unmoving, staring at the visored mech equally frozen behind Bluestreak.
He started to run to the tactician, then stumbled when the room spun about him. Someone grabbed him, lifting him up, which only made his spinning CPU worse. Letting out a soft moan, Bluestreak shuttered his optics, then fell limp against the mech holding him.
= = =
He woke in the med bay, optics coming online to see a black and white mech hovering by his side.
“Jazz?”
“Hey Bluestreak. Can you get up?” The saboteur looked inordinately relieved to see him awake. Confused, he attempted a sitting position, swaying slightly. Jazz moved to steady him and he nodded in thanks to the mech.
“Why am I in the med bay?”
“Well… What do you remember?” The Porsche hedged, and Bluestreak frowned.
“I was running a delivery to the science wing, packages and datapads, I think. Then I’m waking up here. Jazz, what happened?”
“Well, something in one of the packages has a strange effect on bots. You got hit by it, and you’ve… just recovered.”
Blinking, he tried to process what Jazz just told him. The sound of his name being called had him looking up to spot Prowl walking over, Ratchet and Perceptor in tow. The black and white Datsun looked visibly anxious, and Bluestreak’s doors dipped low. He must have really worried Prowl.
“I’m sorry.”
The Autobot SIC looked startled, then Prowl’s expression softened and the mech reached out to brush his helm lightly.
“I’m just glad you’re alright, Bluestreak.”
The gunner nodded, then faced Ratchet once the medic had finished his hushed discussion with Perceptor and cleared his vocaliser, drawing Bluestreak’s attention.
“Well, if you can stand, you can go. Don’t do anything stupid, and you’re to rest for the remainder of today.”
Bluestreak could stand, and so he escaped the medical wing, accompanied by both Prowl and Jazz.
= = =
The two black and white mechs walked him to his quarters, and when they reached his door, he turned to look at them both, feeling a little sheepish.
“I’m sorry again for worrying you.”
“Blue’, it wasn’t a problem at all.” Jazz reassured him, and he nodded, not quite sure why he was still standing in the corridor instead of heading inside to do as Ratchet had ordered. His servos were still a little wobbly, and Bluestreak still felt rather tired. The saboteur looked at him in a considering manner, then chuckled softly. Suddenly, he was wrapped in a warm hug, and Jazz was whispering into his audio.
“Good night, Bluestreak.”
Lips touched his chevron briefly, and he rebooted his optics, wondering at how natural the gesture felt. Then Prowl did the same and he had to resist the impulse to curl against the tactician and the saboteur. Instead, he smiled, and even though it was the middle of the day he answered with a ‘Good night”, then entered his room.
As his door shut, he thought he saw Prowl take Jazz’s hand. Confused as he was at the sudden development, Bluestreak broke into a wide grin.
Finally.
= = = EndFic = = =
'Verse: G1 Transformers
Characters: Bluestreak. Prowl. Jazz.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: TF cussing
He onlined to a dark room, and sat up to find Prowl still in recharge on the berth across from him. Checking his chronometer, Bluestreak tried to work out what time it was, and had to reboot his optics in shock when he realised he’d been in the Ark for at least three of the planet’s cycles.
Granted, they were shorter than Cybertron’s, but three cycles was still a long time to be away. Especially if his creators didn’t know where he was. Bluestreak curled up on his little cot, trying to keep quiet and not disturb the tactician’s rest.
He hadn’t thought about his creators much in the last two days. There was always something new to see or do, or someone to talk to, and Prowl was always there, making him feel as safe as he would be in his own home. Now he wondered if his creators thought he’d run away, or if he’d ended up stolen or deactivated somewhere.
Were they worried about him? They had to be. They were his creators.
Were they trying to find him? They were probably tearing Praxus apart looking for him, and all Bluestreak had done in return was play vidgames and run around making a nuisance of himself.
He pressed his helm against the surface of the cot, his frame racked with the effort of keeping his distress muted. Suddenly, strong arms were gathering him up and holding him close, and someone was rubbing his back and doorwings soothingly. But it was wrong, it felt wrong. There ought to be two bots with him, making him feel better.
Then there were two bots, the second humming low and soft, petting his helm tenderly while the other continued to hold him and rub his back. He reached out to the humming one, and was pulled into a tight hug.
But then the other bot moved away, and he turned in a blind panic to call them back. Someone murmured comfortingly into his audio as he felt himself surrounded once more by both bots, and he calmed, shuttering his optics as he felt them moving.
They lay him down and he stirred fitfully, not wanting to be left alone, but then the two lay down with him, shuffling about until all three of them fit together like pieces in a puzzle, and it was enough like being tucked between his creators after a bad recharge period that he soon fell offline once more.
= = =
Bluestreak woke tucked close to Prowl’s front, and onlined his optics to see Jazz sitting on the berth with them, his expression strange and unreadable, visor fixed on the tactician as the chevroned mech recharged. Then the mech was looking at him, smiling as he held a finger to his lips, indicating the still offline Prowl with a tilt of his head. When he nodded in understanding, Jazz rose and left Prowl’s quarters in complete silence.
He watched as the door slid shut on Jazz’s back, and looked up at Prowl to see that the mech’s optics were lit and staring at the door as well. Then without a word, the tactician sat up, helped him down from the berth, and started his preparations for the day. The youngling could have thrown a tantrum out of sheer frustration. Why were they refusing to cooperate?!
As he walked to the rec. room with Prowl to get some energon, Bluestreak flicked his doors in resolute determination. The two mechs had been willing to put aside their fight to comfort him. Time to see if he couldn’t use that to get them to spend some more time together.
= = =
His chance came when Bumblebee found them in the rec room and offered to keep him company again today. As soon as the tactician tried to leave him with the yellow minibot, he attached himself to the black and white mech’s leg like an abandoned turbohound pup. Prowl tried to gently dislodge him, but Bluestreak only clung even tighter.
“Bluestreak, I need to go to my office.”
He lifted his face to look up at Prowl, then hid it against the mech’s plating once more, wrapping his arms about the tactician’s leg as if he could keep the other in place that way.
Prowl sighed, then picked him up, just as Bluestreak had hoped he would. He laid his helm on the mech’s shoulder, shifting one arm to curl around Prowl’s neck as the mech asked him what was wrong. Bluestreak shook his head mutely, and heard Prowl thank the Bumblebee for his offer before moving to one side of the rec. room.
“Bluestreak, are you feeling well?”
He nodded, then mumbled into the tactician’s neck cables.
“Can you… stay with me today?” Not letting the older mech reply just yet Bluestreak added, because he felt guilty about asking Prowl to skip work, “Just for a while, please?”
There was another sigh as Prowl agreed, and hardly daring to believe his luck, Bluestreak pushed a little more.
“… Can Jazz stay with us too?”
“Stay where?”
Bluestreak looked up from Prowl’s shoulder to see the visored black and white looking at him in concern. Jazz smiled at him, then spoke to Prowl, explaining his sudden presence.
“Bumblebee came and got me.” The mech returned his gaze to the youngling in Prowl’s arms. “Heard you were upset about something, Blue’. Was it anything to do with last night?”
It had everything and nothing to do with the last night, but he couldn’t say that, so instead he tried to burrow deeper into Prowl’s neck. Jazz rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it an understanding squeeze.
“I know you miss your creators. We’re working on getting you back, so just hang on a little longer, okay?”
The visored mech’s words just made his spark hurt again, unintentional as their effect might be, and he didn’t have to fake the sniffle that escaped him at the mention of his creators. Jazz soothed him, stroking his helm as Prowl tentatively asked if the other black and white was free to spend the next hour or so with them.
“I am. What’ve you got planned?”
“It was a rather spur of the moment decision.” The tactician replied, then added with a faint smile. “Then again, those are your speciality, aren’t they, Jazz?”
Surprised by the sudden show of humour from the doorwinged mech, Jazz let out a startled laugh. “Don’t tell me I’m finally starting to rub off on you.”
“I’m going to Hoist to get it looked at as soon as I have a spare moment.”
The older chevroned mech’s dry comment had Bluestreak smiling. Jazz caught the youngling’s improved mood and shot Prowl a quick triumphant grin, before smirking at the tactician.
“A spare moment? You have spare moments? More importantly, you’ve heard of the term? I can’t believe my audios. Someone notify the media.”
Bluestreak smiled again at Jazz’s dramatics, and the mech flashed his visor playfully at him before circling the two doorwinged bots thoughtfully.
“But anyway, now that I have you in my clutches, what do I do with you two?”
“I dread to think of what you might come up with.”
“You just gave me free reign over your next hour. No take backs.” Jazz waved a finger admonishingly at the tactician, and Prowl glanced upwards for a moment.
“Primus preserve me.”
“You know you love me, Prowler.”
Prowl went still at the visored mech’s offhand rebuttal, and Jazz drew back almost reflexively, his grin faltering for a moment. Bluestreak bit back a sigh and wriggled free of the tactician’s hold, breaking the awkward moment, then grabbed Jazz’s hand, making the black and white mech look down at him enquiringly. Rocking on his pedes a little, he plastered the most endearing look he could muster onto his faceplates and asked.
“Can I see your room, Jazz?”
Jazz agreed immediately, seeming nearly relieved for the distraction. Bluestreak reached for Prowl’s hand as well, linking all three of them together (the way things were going, the tactician might ‘accidentally’ get left behind on the way to Jazz’s quarters), then turned back to the visored mech with a bright smile. Jazz chuckled wryly, then started walking, Bluestreak and Prowl easily falling into place beside him.
= = =
Jazz’s quarters were not like Prowl’s. The visored mech had a lot more stuff on his shelves and tables, and he even had some brightly coloured pictures on his walls. Bluestreak took in his surroundings with wide optics. Though it looked lived in, compared to Jazz’s room, Prowl’s was really quite bare.
Before he could contemplate this any further, Jazz returned from rummaging through his shelves for something, holding a disc up so they could see it. The title of the vid was unfamiliar to Bluestreak, but it seemed that Prowl had seen it before, because the tactician raised an optic ridge at the visored mech. Jazz laughed lightly.
“Don’t worry, Prowl. If your processors freeze up, I’ll tell the doc it was my fault.” The doorwinged mech made an unconvinced sort of sound, and Jazz huffed good naturedly at him as he set up the vid. “I promise, ‘kay? Now hush and grab a seat, the show’s starting.”
The visored mech turned around to find both doorwinged mechs already settled on his berth. Bluestreak waved at him, grinning, and Jazz shook his head, taking the place obviously reserved for him on the other side of the youngling.
As the vid played, Bluestreak brought the latest element of his plan into full swing. He started to fidget, drawing puzzled looks from the two black and whites mechs. Then he jumped up, pulling Prowl across so that the tactician was seated right next to Jazz, and perched himself atop both mechs’ knees. The grey youngling wiggled to make himself comfortable on his new seat, then leant back against the both of them with a satisfied hum.
Behind him, he could feel both Jazz and Prowl going tense, but didn’t budge from his position. Pointing to the screen, he started asking random questions, most of which Jazz answered, with Prowl adding a comment or two. Eventually, amidst the background sound of the vid and the lively discussion between the three of them, the two mechs started to relax, and Bluestreak delighted in his plan’s effectiveness.
= = =
The vid had not yet finished when the two bots suddenly tensed again. Prowl broke off mid-sentence, then directed an apologetic look at Bluestreak before sliding the youngling fully over to the visored mech’s lap and rising from the berth.
“I’m sorry. There’s something that requires my attention right now.”
Jazz was silent as Bluestreak nodded in understanding, and Prowl left the room, his steps slightly hurried. The grey youngling directed his gaze to the vid, but he wasn’t watching the show any longer. What had gone wrong now? They’d been doing so well, and had even started to lean against each other like it was only normal for bondmates to.
Then something his creators had drilled into him ran through his processor, and he almost smacked himself for not realising the big flaw in his strategy.
You couldn’t end a fight without saying ‘sorry’ first. He didn’t know why Prowl and Jazz were fighting, and without that knowledge, it was going to be very difficult to get them to apologise to each other.
Focusing doggedly in front of him, Bluestreak decided it was time for another modification to his plan.
= = =
The vid had ended and Jazz was putting away the disc when he spoke up, quietly plaintive.
“Jazz, why are you fighting with Prowl?”
“Wha? We’re not fighting, Blue’.”
The visored mech whipped around, stunned, and Bluestreak crossed his arms. Sometimes, his creators tried to hide their fights from him too.
“If Prowl needs to apologise first, I could ask him to. Or I could tell him that you’re sorry for you.”
As much as he wanted to believe that neither mech had done anything wrong, they didn’t seem like the type to get mad over something petty either. If their fight was this bad, then it must have been over something big. Jazz sighed and sat next to him, looking at him seriously.
“Bluestreak, I’m cool with Prowl. And as far as I know, I haven’t annoyed him to the point where you could consider him angry at me.”
Bluestreak frowned. Jazz didn’t sound like he was trying to make him feel better by pretending everything was fine.
“But… aren’t bondmates supposed to stay together?”
“Huh?”
The visored mech looked completely thrown by Bluestreak’s question, but the youngling kept going, desperate to understand the situation. “You don’t stay together. If you’re not fighting, why don’t you?”
Jazz took hold of his shoulders and gently replied. “Me and Prowl aren’t bonded, Bluestreak.”
They… weren’t? Bewildered, Bluestreak said the first thing that came to his processors. “Your paint jobs are the same!”
Jazz sighed again. “Oh boy. I’m glad you didn’t run into Cliffjumper or Sideswipe first. Bondmates don’t have to be identical, you know.”
“But… Prowl smiles when he sees you.”
The visored mech chuckled softly at that, rubbing a thumb over Bluestreak’s cheek affectionately.
“I’m pretty sure he smiles at you too.”
Bluestreak shook his head insistently. He knew the difference. “Not like he does at you! He likes you! And you let him stand closer to you than anyone else! Don’t you like him?”
Jazz hesitated, looking away and muttering lowly. “Out of the mouths of babes...” Then the black and white mech glanced back up. “I do, Bluestreak, but we’re friends, that’s all. I’m very different from Prowl.”
“You just said that bondmates don’t have to be identical!” Bluestreak pointed out, and the mech shrugged.
“Yeah, but I don’t think Prowl would be interested in a mech like me.”
Bluestreak leapt to his pedes, thoroughly agitated now, evading the mech’s attempts to calm him, turning to get out of the room so he could find Prowl, bring him here and prove Jazz wrong. But Prowl was already standing in the doorway, unmoving, staring at the visored mech equally frozen behind Bluestreak.
He started to run to the tactician, then stumbled when the room spun about him. Someone grabbed him, lifting him up, which only made his spinning CPU worse. Letting out a soft moan, Bluestreak shuttered his optics, then fell limp against the mech holding him.
= = =
He woke in the med bay, optics coming online to see a black and white mech hovering by his side.
“Jazz?”
“Hey Bluestreak. Can you get up?” The saboteur looked inordinately relieved to see him awake. Confused, he attempted a sitting position, swaying slightly. Jazz moved to steady him and he nodded in thanks to the mech.
“Why am I in the med bay?”
“Well… What do you remember?” The Porsche hedged, and Bluestreak frowned.
“I was running a delivery to the science wing, packages and datapads, I think. Then I’m waking up here. Jazz, what happened?”
“Well, something in one of the packages has a strange effect on bots. You got hit by it, and you’ve… just recovered.”
Blinking, he tried to process what Jazz just told him. The sound of his name being called had him looking up to spot Prowl walking over, Ratchet and Perceptor in tow. The black and white Datsun looked visibly anxious, and Bluestreak’s doors dipped low. He must have really worried Prowl.
“I’m sorry.”
The Autobot SIC looked startled, then Prowl’s expression softened and the mech reached out to brush his helm lightly.
“I’m just glad you’re alright, Bluestreak.”
The gunner nodded, then faced Ratchet once the medic had finished his hushed discussion with Perceptor and cleared his vocaliser, drawing Bluestreak’s attention.
“Well, if you can stand, you can go. Don’t do anything stupid, and you’re to rest for the remainder of today.”
Bluestreak could stand, and so he escaped the medical wing, accompanied by both Prowl and Jazz.
= = =
The two black and white mechs walked him to his quarters, and when they reached his door, he turned to look at them both, feeling a little sheepish.
“I’m sorry again for worrying you.”
“Blue’, it wasn’t a problem at all.” Jazz reassured him, and he nodded, not quite sure why he was still standing in the corridor instead of heading inside to do as Ratchet had ordered. His servos were still a little wobbly, and Bluestreak still felt rather tired. The saboteur looked at him in a considering manner, then chuckled softly. Suddenly, he was wrapped in a warm hug, and Jazz was whispering into his audio.
“Good night, Bluestreak.”
Lips touched his chevron briefly, and he rebooted his optics, wondering at how natural the gesture felt. Then Prowl did the same and he had to resist the impulse to curl against the tactician and the saboteur. Instead, he smiled, and even though it was the middle of the day he answered with a ‘Good night”, then entered his room.
As his door shut, he thought he saw Prowl take Jazz’s hand. Confused as he was at the sudden development, Bluestreak broke into a wide grin.
Finally.
= = = EndFic = = =
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-07 04:21 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 12:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-07 04:34 pm (UTC)So sweet and adorable!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 12:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-07 04:45 pm (UTC)Good read though. Very cute. <3
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 12:34 pm (UTC)Thank you ^_^
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-07 05:17 pm (UTC)(Though I do have to say, this won't be the last we see of a grey datsun, just the last of this bunny! ^^)
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 12:36 pm (UTC)Glad you like it ^_^
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-07 05:43 pm (UTC)*wanders off to brush teeth*
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 12:38 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-07 07:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 12:43 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-07 08:14 pm (UTC)Hee - and you're never too grown up to get a kiss good night <3
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 12:45 pm (UTC)True ^_^
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-07 08:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 12:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 12:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-07 09:09 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 12:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-07 09:30 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 12:53 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 01:00 am (UTC)I loved every minute of it.
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 12:53 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 03:34 am (UTC)This fic bunny needs friends!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 12:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 04:32 am (UTC)I loved the 'out of the mouths of babes...' section. I can just imagine how stunned Prowl was, finding out that the mech he was attracted to was also attracted to him. Awesomely done, that bit.
And the ending was wonderful and fit in so smoothly with the rest of the story.
Once again, another lovely fic from you! Thank you for sharing it!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 12:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 08:17 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 12:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 10:44 am (UTC)Love how Jazz and Prowls affections are obvious, even to a sparkling!, but not to each other. ^_^
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-08 01:01 pm (UTC)Love is blind, don't they say? ;3
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-11 04:30 am (UTC)AAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!
(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-11 06:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-17 05:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-01-17 08:31 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-03-06 09:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-03-08 01:08 pm (UTC)