Chapter One
Summary: When Jazz finds a orphaned youngling, what chaos happens? Can Prowl survive the two of them, or will he be driven insane?
Set pre-war Cybertron in the Prime universe with a bit of Transformers: Exodus influence.
Note I forgot to add originally: There is a list of the Cybertronian-to-Earth terms that I use on my profile page.
Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers. I only take credit for my OCs and the plot for this story.
"Come on, Jazz!" called the thin youngling as he ran ahead of the white and black investigator.
"A'right, a'right. Ah'm comin'," grinned Jazz. He followed the hyperactive youngling down the street. Being quickly left behind, he picked up the pace, his longer legs allowing him to catch up.
"So, what we gonna do today?" asked the navy youngling, looking up at Jazz. His blue-green optics shone with excitement.
"Well," hummed the young investigator. "I got ta report some stuff ta a friend. Then, Ah suspect Ah'll teach ya ta sneak up on him."
Jazz watched as his young charge's face lit up with more enthusiasm. If that was possible. The seven-vorn-old was practically bouncing as he walked, making the investigator chuckle.
"Ah guess that sounds good to ya, huh?"
"Yeah, Jazz! When can I sneak up on him?" asked the blue and black youngling.
Jazz patted him on the helm. "As soon as I'm done talking ta him."
"Okay!" nodded the youngling. He ducked out from under Jazz's hand and ran ahead.
"Hey!" called Jazz. "Yer goin' da wrong way, Speedy!"
"Oh!" came the little bot's reply. He ran back to join Jazz who was waiting for him.
"Ta get there, we hafta go this way," said the investigator, pointing down an adjoining street. Turning, he started walking. The excited youngling followed right on his heels.
They soon arrived at their location. Jazz strode up the steps to the building, placing the youngling on his shoulders so he wouldn't run off again.
"Is this where your friend works, Jazz?" asked the blue youngling. He held on to the sides of Jazz's helm as he craned his neck cables up at the tall building with curiosity.
"Yep. Now ya gotta behave and let me talk ta some mecha, okay?" said the white and black mech. He walked through the doors and towards the front desk, youngling still seated on his shoulders.
"Okay!"
Satisfied with the answer, Jazz kept moving. He reached the desk, which came up to the short investigator's chest. Jazz leaned on it with one arm atop the ledge, waiting for the mech behind it to finish what he was doing.
The Cybertronian would not be much taller than Jazz when standing. He had the doorwings that most Praxians had, which flittered every few kliks as their owner worked. The mech was mostly white with bright blue on his arms, doorwings, and legs. He looked to be filing some paperwork that had been dropped off by someone else.
"I will be right with you," he said flatly, not bothering to look up at the bot leaning casually against the desk.
"No problem, take yer time," replied Jazz. He busied himself by examining his surroundings through his visor.
The front room of the office building was mostly empty except for the mech at the desk and a few officers walking to different areas.
The officers said nothing to the investigator, but from the look on their faces, the sight of a youngling sitting atop someone's shoulder plates was uncommon in their domain. Jazz just returned the strange looks with a wide grin.
Finally, the Praxian at the front desk lifted his helm to acknowledge the mech standing beside it. Immediately, his optic ridges shot up as he beheld the sight in front of him.
The investigator pretended not to notice that anything was out of the ordinary while the youngling waved at the Praxian from behind his helm.
Recovering from shock, the Praxian shook his helm and asked, "May I help you?"
"Yes," replied Jazz. "Is Prowl 'round here somewhere?"
"Yes, he is in his office. Do you have an appointment?" replied the Praxian, still eyeing the youngling staring at him over the investigator's helm.
"No, Ah just have some things ta drop off," Jazz replied, pushing off the desk and straightening to his full height.
"I will let him know you are here," said the Praxian, moving a hand to the intercom system.
Jazz was already walking away. "No need," he called over his shoulder.
"Bye!" the youngling said with a wave.
The poor bot at the desk raised a hand to return the wave, the realized what he was doing. He spun around to face the entrance and went back to his work.
Jazz walked down the hall towards Prowl's office, nodding a greeting to the few bots he passed. Each one paused to stop and stare at the short investigator striding through their hall with a small youngling riding on his shoulders. Jazz didn't show any reaction and proceeded as normal.
Reaching his friend's door, the white and black mech stopped and put the youngling on the floor beside him. Silently, the investigator pointed upwards to the vent in the wall nearby. The smaller blue bot nodded his helm, understanding exactly what Jazz meant.
Jazz reached up and silently opened the vent. He then picked up the youngling again, holding him so that the little bot could reach. After he was in the vent, Jazz left him and walked back to the door.
Without knocking, the investigator opened the door and walked in. The black and white mech inside looked up from his work, a rather annoyed look on his face.
"Jazz," he said.
"Prowl," grinned the investigator, flopping into one of the guest chairs. "What's up?"
The black and white law enforcer sighed, putting down the datapad he'd been reading. "Well, I was working on something of importance until you barged in."
"Barged in?" Jazz wailed with mock sorrow. "I thought Ah was jus givin' ya a friendly surprise visit."
"I am too busy at the moment for social calls, Jazz. I will have to ask you to leave."
Jazz rolled his optics under his visor at the young Praxian, his doorwings twitching. "Prowler, ya got too much stuff ta do. Can't ya take a break for a minute ta chat with a friend?"
The law enforcer picked up his datapad and started reading again. "No, I cannot, Jazz."
"Fine. Ah'll just leave these here an' be on ma way," replied Jazz. He removed a few datapads from a subspace pocket and dropped them on the desk.
Prowl looked up. "What are those?"
"Info, Prowler," grinned the investigator. "Now ya wanna talk?"
Prowl sighed, reaching for the small stack of datapads. He turned them on and quickly scanned their contents. While he was reading, Jazz glanced up at the vent in the law enforcer's office.
A pair of blue-green optics looked back at him, asking the investigator a silent question.
Jazz nodded his helm slightly, a motion that wouldn't be seen unless you were looking for it. He twitched a doorwing slightly, sending a signal to the owner of the optics hidden in the vent.
Immediately, a small blue and black blur silently launched from the vent. It landed squarely on the unsuspecting Praxian's shoulders.
Prowl let out a small yelp, his optics wide, as he jumped to his pedes, reaching behind his helm to dislodge whatever it was that had landed on him. A pair of hands reached around his face to cover his optics. Prowl attempted to pry off the small digits covering his face.
As Jazz watched the scene in front of him, he burst out laughing. The youngling atop Prowl's shoulders giggled as the Praxian unsuccessfully tried to remove him from his perch.
After a few kliks, Prowl was realized that his efforts were useless and sat back down. He waited quietly until the investigator, who had fell off his chair, had calmed down enough to talk.
Jazz got to his pedes, still chuckling. He sat down in his chair and placed his pedes on top off Prowl's desk. "Ah see ya have a parasite, Prowler," he said with a smirk.
The black and white mech frowned. "First of all, Jazz, that is not my name. Second of all, I'm assuming that you had something to do with this. Also, get your pedes off my desk."
"And why would ya deduce that?" inquired the investigator, removing his pedes and sitting up. He brought one pede up and rested it on the other's knee joint. "Come here, youngin'."
Immediately, Prowl was unblinded and his attacker slid down from his shoulders. The youngling skittered around the desk and climbed up to sit on Jazz's lap. He then waved at Prowl.
"Hi! Are you Jazz's friend?" the youngling asked.
"Yes. I am Prowl. And you are?" stated the young enforcer, directing the question at the grinning investigator.
He quickly looked the small youngling up and down. The youngling was mostly navy blue with some black and bright blue paint on his helm, torso, and pedes. His pedes made up most of his short stature. Large doorwings attached to the little one's back flitted energetically. Prowl didn't recognize him.
"This here's Steeldust," Jazz said, patting the small bot's helm.
"I see," replied Prowl. "What are you doing with a youngling, Jazz."
The investigator shrugged. "Ah found him. He had nobody ta take care of 'im. So, he's stickin' with me."
"Where are his creators?" Prowl said. "You need to return him to them as soon as possible."
As he said this, the youngling's face crumpled into a frown. He turned and buried his face against Jazz's chest. The investigator put a hand over Steeldust's back and rubbed his doorwings gently.
"I tried to find them, Prowl," Jazz replied, dropping his accent. "They're gone."
Prowl considered the two Cybertronians in his office for a moment. "I see."
The youngling in Jazz's servos started to wail. Jazz stared up at the Praxian.
"Now look what you did, Prowl," the white and black mech sighed.
Prowl glared at the young investigator. "What do you mean? I did not do anything."
Jazz rose an optic ridge above his visor. He looked from the Praxian down to the crying youngling and back up to Prowl. The look he gave his friend seemed to say, 'are you sure?'
Prowl sighed. "Jazz, you cannot take care of a youngling. You are too busy and your job is too dangerous to be taking him with you. Also, he will need to be in school. We both know you do not stay in one place long enough for him to attend one school."
Steeldust started wailing louder.
"Are you serious, Prowl?" asked Jazz, still without his usual accent. "You made him cry, and now you want me to discuss this with you right now?"
"I am serious, Jazz. You cannot take care of him properly," replied Prowl levelly.
Jazz sighed, rolling his hidden optics again. "I'll wing it. Happy now?"
"No."
When are you," mumbled Jazz. He looked down at the youngling on his lap. He wrapped one servo around him protectively, petting his doorwings with the other hand.
Steeldust's crying turned into sniffing and hiccupping. Jazz kept rubbing his doorwings as he looked at Prowl.
"You know as well as I do that picking someone to take care of an orphaned sparkling or youngling is not easy," Jazz said.
"Yes, and in addition, the mecha must be suited to take care if them accordingly," snapped Prowl. "Because of your job and lifestyle, you are not, Jazz."
"Says you," challenged Jazz. "I found him, I keep him."
Prowl threw his hands up in exasperation. "Jazz! You cannot play finders keepers with a youngling."
Jazz shrugged. "He likes me an' Ah like him," he spoke, accent returning.
"That is not all that is required to adopt him. You cannot take care of him properly, please find someone who can."
"Maybe. Ah'll look into it."
"Jazz."
"And ain't it partly Steeldust's decision too? He's gotta like his new caretaker."
"Yes, but he needs a suitable environment as well," countered the Praxian.
Jazz sighed. "Prowl, Ah said Ah'll look into it." He rose to his pedes, picking Steeldust up as he did. The youngling peered at Prowl, optics wide. He was still sniffling.
"Jazz, sit down," Prowl commanded. "We are not finished."
"Well, any further conversation is gonna turn into things that Ah don't wanna discuss in front of Steeldust here. So, unless one o' yer fellow officers wants ta keep an optic on him, Ah gotta take him home."
"Fine. Find someone to look after him and get back in here," snapped Prowl.
Jazz stared at the enforcer for a moment. Steeldust rested his helm tiredly in the investigator's shoulder.
"Ya seriously want me ta take him and give him ta one of the officers ta look after?" asked Jazz, optic ridges as high as they could go.
"Yes," returned Prowl flatly, placing his folded hands on the desk.
"Ah thought ya were too busy," challenged the investigator.
"This is more important," Prowl replied, nodding his helm towards the almost recharging youngling. "We need to make sure he is taken care of properly."
"Fine," huffed Jazz.
The investigator turned and stomped out of the office. He paused at the door, wondering if he could slam it without waking Steeldust up. Figuring he couldn't, he closed it gently and stalked back down the hall.
Back in his office, Prowl sighed. He was not looking forward to the argument that was to come.
Jazz walked up to the front desk from behind. The seated Praxian didn't seem to notice him, so the investigator tapped him on the shoulder.
The mech jumped and spun in his chair to face the intruder.
Realizing that it was only the bot from earlier, he relaxed. "Yes, may I help you?" he asked with annoyance.
Jazz's mouth tipped up in a small smile. "Yeah, Prowl says for you ta take care of this youngling for me."
With that, the white and black mech carefully deposited the sleeping youngling on the Praxian's lap. Then, he turned and walked in the direction he'd come.
"Wait, what?" sputtered the desk clerk. "I have work to do."
"Don't like it, take it up with Prowl," replied Jazz grumpily without looking back or stopping.
But- But," the white and blue Praxian said, glancing from the youngling to the investigator.
He turned in his chair carefully to not wake up the youngling. Reaching across his desk, he pushed a button on his intercom system.
"Yes," asked Prowl's voice from the machine.
"Sir, a youngling was just delivered to me by a white and black mech with a blue visor. He said that you said I am to look after it."
Prowl sighed. "Well, I did not mean you specifically, but yes, please take care of him. I need to talk to the mech that brought him without his presence."
"Yes, sir," answered the other Praxian, his dismay barely hidden.
"Thank you," said Prowl.
The desk clerk shut off the intercom and looked down at the navy and black youngling. "Now how am I supposed to do my work with you here?" he muttered with a frown.
Meanwhile, Jazz had reached Prowl's office again. He opened the door and after walking in, slammed it behind him. As he sat down in his chair, the law enforcer glared at him.
"Now you are just doing that to be annoying," growled the Praxian, his doorwings twitching.
"Yer one ta talk," scowled Jazz. "If it wasn't for you, Ah'd be happily on ma way ta somewhere much more interesting."
"Jazz, this is important."
"Ah know. Ah told ya Ah'd take care of it."
"Yes. The way you take care of things is not suitable in terms of a youngling."
"Fine. Then what is yer great and glorious plan?"
Prowl sighed, placing his hands on the desk. "Jazz, I think inside you know that you cannot provide a proper home and care for Steeldust, even though you refuse to agree with me. You need to find an alternative and permanent place for him if you have his best interest in mind. He is young, he needs education and a suitable, stable environment."
"An' yer saying Ah can't provide an education for him?" Jazz asked, crossing his servos.
"As I said before, you move around too much for Steeldust to stay in the same school for long. His life would consist of constantly moving," returned Prowl.
"Ah wouldn't hafta do that."
"No, but how long do you think that would last? Jazz, even if you did stay in one place, you are too busy."
Jazz glared at Prowl. "So. You want me to just find someone Steeldust has never met and leave him there. Probably he'd never see me again," he snapped, dropping his accent again.
"Jazz, I can't tell you are attached, but you need to think of his best interests- "
"I am thinking of his best interests!" Jazz hissed, interrupting Prowl. "Do you really think I'm just thinking of myself? The youngling already lost his creators and possibly anyone else he knew. Do you really want him to lose someone else too?"
"Calm down, Jazz," said Prowl flatly. "Please explain."
"Steeldust's creators were offlined. Even if he didn't see it happen, he would have felt it through their bond. From the little he's told me; his family was in the process of moving from Polyhex to where I found them." Jazz sat back in his chair, door wings relaxing. "Both creators were shot through the spark and helm. Someone wanted them offline. Steel is lucky they missed him. Whoever it was went for him too, but his sire must've got in front. He had two wounds about level where Steeldust's helm and chest would be if he was standing next to him."
Prowl listened quietly. After Jazz finished, the Praxian sat for a few kliks without replying. What the investigator had just told him was troubling.
Steeldust was likely traumatised, more than Prowl had thought when observing the youngling. No wonder Jazz had not wished to speak about the matter in front of him.
"I assume you wish to not separate yourself from Steeldust because you were the first to find him after his creators' offlining?" Prowl finally inquired.
"Yes," Jazz nodded.
Prowl gave the investigator a pointed look. "And I presume that you in fact have been caring for him ever since. That explaining why I am receiving the report of that mission just now," the enforcer continued, tapping the datapads Jazz had brought earlier. Picking one up, he turned it on. "You dated this report almost two jours ago, Jazz."
"Yeah, that was the investigation I found him on," Jazz replied.
"And yet, you did not mention finding a survivor of the shooting incident," remarked Prowl, skimming through the report again. "You were considering hiding Steeldust altogether from me, weren't you?"
Jazz said nothing, arms still crossed. His doorwings twitched.
Prowl looked up at him. "Jazz."
"Yes, it crossed my mind. I knew you'd do something like this," the young investigator said slowly.
"What made you decide to bring him then?"
"Well," replied Jazz, leaning forward to place his folded hands on his side of the desk. "Ah figured that you were ma friend and if Ah wanted ta keep ya as ma friend, Ah couldn't keep somethin' this important a secret."
Prowl sighed. "Jazz, what am I going to do with you?"
The investigator just shrugged.
"Even with this more detailed explanation, you still must look for new caretakers, Jazz. As I have said, Steeldust needs a stable living environment."
Jazz scoffed. "Right, cause living in a world where what happened ta him provides that."
"Jazz."
"A'right, Ah'll look into it," replied Jazz tiredly. He rose form his chair and started walking towards the door. "Ya can send me whatever info ya please on da subject."
"That I will do, Jazz," sighed the Praxian as his friend left his office.
Prowl immediately started looking for information to send the investigator. The sooner Steeldust was placed in proper care, the better. The youngling seemed to be already very attached to the visored mech, and prolonging finding a permanent caretaker would be harder on him the longer he stayed.
As he was doing this, Jazz was on his way to the front desk. Before the investigator got there, he could hear his charge talking.
'It seems like nap time's over,' Jazz thought.
"And what's this do?" Steeldust was asking.
The desk clerk quickly replied, "That is an intercom system. It allows me to communicate with other mecha in the building without leaving my desk."
"Oh! Kinda like the comm systems you bigger bots have!" nodded Steeldust.
Jazz paused mid stride. He was still in the hallway that opened up into the entrance. Moving to the wall, he peered around the corner.
Steeldust was now wide awake, sitting on the large desk in front of the white and blue Praxian. In typical curious Steeldust fashion, he was asking questions a mile a minute. The Praxian was surprisingly answering the questions as they were asked and was seemingly very relaxed.
Jazz smiled as he watched them. It still amazed him how much the little bot had changed in the three jours he'd been in his care. The youngling was much happier and outgoing than he had been. At first, he wouldn't even talk to Jazz, now he was having a conversation with a stranger he'd just met.
The investigator strode over to the front of the desk. He folded his arms and leaned on the top of it. Both bots noticed him almost instantly.
"Jazz! You're back!" squealed Steeldust, moving to hug the investigator over the desktop ledge. "This is my new friend, Nightracer."
"Hey." Jazz grinned, looking down at the Praxian. "Thanks for lookin' after Steeldust."
Nightracer smiled back. "You are welcome. He recharged for awhile, but when he woke up, he was very well behaved."
"That's good," Jazz grinned. "Hope he didn't prevent ya from gettin' yer work done."
The desk clerk shrugged, his doorwings flicking happily. "It was fine. I can catch up quickly."
"He said I was helpin', Jazz," Steeldust said with a grin. "I helped him find his lost writing tool under the desk where he couldn't reach it. I helped him put away datapads too."
Jazz chuckled at the excited youngling. "That was nice of ya, Steeldust. Now we better get going."
"Okay," replied Steeldust. He turned to face Nightracer. "Bye! Thanks for letting me help you!"
Nightracer dipped his helm. "You are welcome, Steeldust. See you another time."
Jazz picked up Steeldust and started off towards the door. "Thanks again, Nightracer," he called over his shoulder.
"Bye!" said Steeldust, waving at the Praxian.
"Farewell," replied Nightracer, returning the wave this time.
The two Cybertronians left the enforcers' building and walked down the street. Jazz had put Steeldust on the ground and the youngling skipped along beside the investigator. He seemed to have forgotten crying and visiting Prowl.
So, that's the first chapter. Please let me know what you think and thanks for reading.