*sighs*
The first two lines pretty much describe what I was doing in Spanish class today. A whole two hours of my life wasted. But I wrote this in that time so I guess it wasn't totally wasted.
Enjoy =)
~*~
Jazz sat at his desk, leaning back in his chair, and counting the numerous tiles on the ceiling.
'A hundred and seven, a hundred and eight, a hundred and ten… Wait a breem… Oops.'
The saboteur sighed and leaned forward, drumming his fingers on his desk. The metallic tapping sound echoed through his office. The Autobot base was too damn boring.
After Ratchet brought him back online, Jazz was showered with all kinds of love, everyone welcoming him back to the living world in their own ways. Mikaela gave him a 'welcome back' wash and wax, which he thoroughly enjoyed; Bumblebee, the youngest of all the Autobots, ran up and gave him a giant cuddly hug; and Ironhide gave him a comrade to comrade pat on the back… which ended with Jazz flat on his face. A week or two passed, everyone went back to their normal, boring lives.
He shook his head. Jazz kind of wished that some Decepticons would be stupid enough to barge into the base so he could shoot the slag out of them. 'Nah, I don't need any more scratches on my paint.'
Random thoughts trickled through his processors, eventually leading to a list of ways to torture a Decepticon. The worst he could come up with was to remove all their weapons and weld their afts to the ground in a room teeming with furious femmes.
Just like that, a sudden idea popped into his head and flashed like a giant light bulb. A mischievous grin flashed across Jazz's face as he got up from his chair and searched for Blurr, the universe's fastest talker… and most oblivious mech.
~*~
"Areyousure?" asked the blue mech. Jazz took a few moments to figure out what the frag Blurr was saying before nodding. "I'm sure. Just go up to her and say it! But remember not to tell her I told ya to," reminded the saboteur. "Gotit!" replied the chipper blue mech.
Blurr flashed Jazz with a thumbs-up sign and happily walked over to Mikaela, while the silver mech cackled and snuck off to his office with a sly grin.
Mikaela looked up at Blurr and smiled. "Hey Blurr, what's up?" she greeted. The blue mech beamed back. "Fuckyouupyourasswithagiantfuckingcactus, shittyfucktardedbitch," he recited. The teenage girl blinked twice. All she heard was babbling sounds, along with… did he say fuck?
"Repeat. Slowly," she demanded. He did as told, repeating the words slowly enough for her to understand. Ironhide and Bumblebee overheard the mech's statement and choked on their Energon, staring back at Blurr with wide optics. The yellow scout looked at Ironhide and made a slitting motion across his throat. The weapons specialist nodded and motioned towards the rec-room door.
An animalistic sound of fury escaped Mikaela's throat, startling the blue mech. Her left eye was twitching, and she was trembling all over. Ironhide and Bumblebee sprinted out of the room as if Unicron was right on their afts, leaving Blurr alone with her. The weapons specialist was quite fast for his size…
The fuming teen sent a fiery glare up to Blurr. She clenched her fists and grinded her teeth. "You… You…" growled Mikaela. She walked up to the humans' weapons racks, only kept there for emergencies, and grabbed the biggest cannon thing she could find. Mikaela turned to face the now terrified Blurr. "You. Are. Fucked," she snarled.
~*~
Jazz replayed the videos on his monitor, laughing his aft off. The video snippets of Mikaela chasing Blurr throughout the base were hilarious, but the looks on the faces of the mechs and humans they passed were priceless. In one clip, Optimus tried to stop her and ask why she was chasing Blurr, but that only earned him a shot in his… very sensitive, erm, mech area.
Ding!
Another evil idea popped into the silver mech's head, and again, he was off to find his next victim.
~*~
"Yo Miles!"
The said teen turned around to face Jazz. "Yeah?"
The silver mech walked up to him and crouched so they were at almost eyelevel. "I'm beat from patrollin'. Would ya mind giving Prowl the Prime's orders? He's in the rec-room, but it's kinda far…"
"Sure. No prob', Jazz."
The mech smirked and handed Miles a piece of paper with scribbled writing on it. "Read this, memorize it, and tell Prowl," instructed Jazz. Miles grabbed the paper and nodded. After reading it over and mumbling the words to himself, the teen stuffed the paper into his back pocket and gave a faux salute to Jazz. "Got it. See ya later!"
~*~
"Hey Prowl!" called Miles. The black and white mech turned around and cocked his head downwards. "Hello Miles," he replied. Prowl noticed that the teen's cheeks were flushed. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked, the slightest hint of concern coloring his tone. Miles grinned back at him. "I'm fine! I got a, uh, order from Prime for you," stammered the teen. 'Why wouldn't Optimus just databurst me?' thought mech.
Prowl nodded, urging Miles to continue. "Okay, um, go frag Ironhide in the aft, eat some slag, and uh… what was the other one? Oh yeah! And he said you're a Pit-spawned glitch," said the teen. Prowl inattentively clenched his hands into fists and made a grinding sound within his mouth. A dark expression clouded over his facial plates, unnerving Miles. "Uh… Prowl?"
The mech noticed the teen's timorous face and unclenched his fists. "Just go back to Optimus and say 'Slag your fragging Pit-spawned aft back to Cybertron.'"
Miles shifted his weight to his other foot, discreetly rubbing his back pocket. "Uh, sure…" mumbled the teen. He turned around and started walking to the rec-room door.
"Halt Miles."
The said teen froze, keeping his arms stiff and straight down his sides. He yelped and turned around when he felt something brush against his buttocks. "What are you doing?!" he squealed. Prowl ignored Miles and carefully unfolded the small piece of paper he held with the tips of his fingers. He squinted, magnifying the words written on the tiny sheet, and slightly scowled. The mech released the paper and let it float down to Miles' hands. "That is all."
Prowl stepped over the teen and headed straight for a certain saboteur's office.
~*~
Jazz's optics widened as he whispered, "Oh slag."
He shut down the monitor system and dove onto his berth, pretending to recharge. One astrosecond later, the door hissed open and Prowl stepped inside. The black and white mech walked over to Jazz's berth and paused. He could hear a slight stutter in the saboteur's vent cycles. Prowl glowered at the acting mech and drew back his hand so his right palm was facing left shoulder, and let it rip.
"FRAGGIN' SON OF A GLITCH!" squawked Jazz. His hand flew to the new dent in the back of his head. "What the frag?!"
Prowl drew his hand back again, ready to backhand the smaller mech once more. Jazz flinched away. "Don't cyber-slag me," hissed Prowl. "You-"
Prowl; My office. NOW.
The black and white mech cringed at the ire behind the words. Optimus was definitely, as the humans say, pissed. 'But, why?'
The black and white mech's optics widened as his mouth was left hanging open. 'Miles. '
Prowl shot one last glare at Jazz. "I'll be back for you," he warned. A shit-eating grin crept up on the saboteur's face. "I'm sure you will. No one can resist the Jazz-ster."
He shook his head at the silver mech and walked out of the room… to his doom.
~*~
Prowl made a gulping sound as he stood before the Prime. From the menacing expression on his face, it was easy to tell that Optimus was definitely not happy.
"You. Are. Fragged."
I love making mechs mad at each other. It's funny! Please review!