Look! Up in the sky! Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No fools! 'Tis a plot bunny!

Plot Bunny: Yes, fear me insignificant humans! For I have captured Ghost and am holding her hostage until she finishes me. That's right. Despair at the fact that I am another first chapter to a new story instead of an update to a previously existing one! Your grief brings me such great joy. WHUA HA HAH HA HAH HA HAH (and so on and so forth)

I was in the shower thinking about my essay. I should be working on it, I really should. But the bunny attacked me and sunk its bloodsucking fangs into me brain sooooooooooooo here's this.

I do not own the Transformers franchise.

Summary: G1; Pre-war. Due to the explosion that damaged a large portion of the city, everyone has pitched in to help. This includes Prowl's academy, which has converted half the dorm space into living quarters for the currently homeless. What does this mean? Prowl gets a roommate! He just hopes its someone he can deal with.

Time table:
Decacycle- week
Cycle- day
Joor- hour
Breem- minute
Tik- second

He wasn't sure how he felt about it, really. He understood the effort to help, and considered it very generous of the Academy Director to make the offer.

But the thought of sharing the living space that he had (up until this point) occupied by himself was making him just a bit nervous. Okay, a large bit nervous. He didn't even know who he would be rooming with.

Well, that wasn't true. He did have a name. Jazz. And a name could speak a great deal about the bot it designated-but a lot of the time it spoke more about the bot's creators than the bot themselves.

Oh, he could stand here and ponder the affects a bot's creators have upon their creation through personality, psyche, intellect, etc., but this Jazz was scheduled to arrive any breem now. Prowl just hoped that Jazz was a bot who respected schedules and routine.

He could have sought Jazz ought beforehand, gotten to know the mech before living with him. After all, along with the new rooming assignments had come the mech's comm. Frequency, but Prowl simply hadn't had the time. Between his studies, Enforcer internship and the (forced, not that he would breathe a word to any living thing about it) socialization from his creators and Bluestreak, his days were always stacked with work and learning.

Then the city block had to go and blow up. Most of the damage was collateral; the only reason living space was even needed was because of the large amount of dust and other particles in the air. Stuff like that could really damage a bot.

Oh, great. He was immersed in thought again. Thankfully the sound of pedfalls had snapped him out of it. Wait...

That meant the Jazz was here.

Prowl gave the room a final once-over, taking in the neatly sorted datapads and various belongings of his and the still-to-be-unpacked subspace components of Jazz's he gave a satisfied nod and turned back to the door just as it opened.

The instant he set optics on Jazz-he knew it was Jazz, because he fit he name so very perfectly-Prowl knew that his life had just taken a nosedive.

Jazz hadn't known what he was expecting, but this wasn't it. When he opened the door to his new room, there stood the bot that could only be Prowl, looking at him with a guarded expression that belied just the tiniest hint of distaste.

When he had announced his new roomie to his friends, they had barely suppressed snickers. Jazz didn't know who Prowl was, but they apparently did. And judging from Blaster's reaction, Jazz was in for a world of slag. Of course he had tried to get a hold of this Prowl before he moved in, but as fate would have, Prowl evaded him. Probably one of the only mechs to ever be successful at that particular task, in fact.

Beachcomber hadn't been much better. He had dragged Blaster off when Jazz started pressing for details and this had somewhat fragged him off.

Jazz had decided that trying to get information out of his friends was pointless, since they all knew something about his roommate that he didn't, so he decided to be direct. Which proved futile. He had tried the dorm room several different times over the past two cycles, most of which were met with a locked door and the rest with an open but empty dorm room.

Then he had hacked into he academy network to get a copy of Prowl's course schedule. All advanced honors classes and an internship that was normally reserved for older students. The peek at his grades had confirmed Jazz's suspicions-Prowl was a preppy workaholic introvert who put his future above anything to do with the "now." Pretty much the exact opposite of Jazz, except for the fact that Jazz had his future lined up just as much as Prowl.

So when he met the gaze of the black and white (Primus, even his paint job was boring) Praxian standing in front of two perfectly symmetrical berths and a very organized stack of datapads, Jazz knew he would be requesting a transfer.

"Good afternoon. My name is Prowl, and you must be Jazz." His voice was a monotone, lacking inflection and emotion.

Jazz studied the other mech behind the safety of his visor for a few breems before responding. In that time, the only movement Prowl made was the faintest raising of his doorwings.

Finally, he spoke. "Yep. Tha's me." He closed the door behind him and took a step into the room, testing the waters so to speak. "So..." Jazz shuffled his peds a little bit before taking another step forward. "Ah've heard a lot about you."

Prowl, who had started to turn around, paused and looked back over his shoulder with mild surprise. "Really? How so?"

"Oh, ya know..." Jazz paused again. He hadn't planned on saying that-it just came out as an attempt to break the ice. Now he had to avoid seeming like a stalker. But it was harder than it seemed to do so.

"From my professors?" The same monotone as before.

"Yeah! Ah wanted to get to know ya beforehand, but ya were always busy, so Ah talked to your professors. Not that it was any help." The last sentence was spoken as a mutter, but despite this Jazz was grateful that the ice was effectively broken.

Prowl glanced back at the luggage piled on one the berths-Jazz's-and an almost regretful expression crossed his faceplates. "I would help you unpack your belongings, but there is a meeting I'm required to attend."

Jazz flashed a warm smile and waved his hand in a dismissing manner. "No problem. Meetin's are important." Jazz stepped to the side so Prowl could pass, then he turned to his berth to begin the tedious task of unpacking his belongings. But when he reached the bed, he realized that Prowl was still there, by the doorway.

He turned back around to discover that the Praxian had paused in the open frame and was apparently internally debating about something. After a few tiks of this, Prowl sighed and gave Jazz a small smile. "It was nice to meet you, Jazz." Then he left.

Well, at least I got put with someone who knows how to smile, Jazz thought as he opened the subspace compartments. I think.

You really shouldn't ask where I get any of my ideas, just saying. Oh, and this is rated purely because I'm paranoid about it, and possibly for later chapters (if I ever get around to writing said chapters).

Hopefully I'll actually update this or one of my (few)other stories. Or I can actually do my assignments. Whichever.

Read and review please, and I will love you forever!