She scowled upwards at the night sky, arms crossed.
It had been a long day. Fight off the Decepticons, prove to Ultra Magnus that they were telling the truth, and defend against Sentinel. That asshole. She now referred to him as 'Sir PMS'. (It was even better that he didn't know what it meant; and Sari had convinced him it was a good thing. A title of great honor.)
She smirked a little at the thought.
The door opened, closed, and someone sat next to her. She didn't look at them, instead continuing to look upwards at the pinpricks of light.
"They sure are pretty." An accented voice murmured, "Stars here are different then back home. Brighter, somehow, it seems."
"...Is there a reason you came to bug me?" Her raspy, low, somehow still feminine voice questioned him with a hint of irritation,
"Naw, jus' felt like it." He chuckled, brushing her tone off, and she sensed him lean back on his arms. Her eyes darted over to look at him for a moment. White armor with highlights of red and black, his blue visor unusually bright in the dark. Sighing through her nose, she looked back up at the night sky, tracing different constellations with her eyes.
Hopefully, if she ignored him long enough, he would go away.
"Wassat noise…?" Her companion muttered, looking around. After a moment, the noise reached her ears as well. Cybertronian senses were far more efficient then humans, so it came as no surprise. She listened closely, soaking in the noise.
The sound of beautiful music. A piano and a violin played slow, romantic music to the night air.
"Music." She murmured, "Slow dance music." she didn't look away from the stars. They were beautiful, enticing… she wished she could be among them. To never be bothered again; alone and peaceful. Cold, untouched.
"Dance music?"
"...You usually do slow dances to it. Of course, from what I've seen, you only know street dances." She sneered coldly, visage twisting into a glare.
Street punks pissed her off. They usually tried to steal from her or get her to do something for them that wasn't exactly legal; simply because she happened to be a merc for hire at one point in her life. Something that was rather well known, due to the tattoo forever etched into her shoulder, like a branding.
Movement registered in her ears, and then he was looming over her, face in her vision, an irritatingly cheerful smile on it. He extended a hand to her.
"Teach me." Those two simple words had her raising an eyebrow in disbelief and staring up at him. He towered over her with his around fifteen feet of height. Slowly, she stood, ignoring the offered hand.
"Teach you?" She repeated questioningly, daringly,
"Teach me ta' slow dance." He grinned at her widely, showing off white denta.
"Listen here, whitey-"
"Th' names Jazz." He flickered half of his visor in a wink, not put off by her cold, angry demeanor in the least.
She faltered a moment, not expecting him to lash back, and without anger at that.
"Fine. Jazz." She regained herself, retaining a groan, "Traditionally a slow dance is done between a smaller woman and a man only a few inches to a foot or so taller than her. Thanks to my Viking heritage, I'm six foot even and dwarf even most men." She gestured around, retaining her anger carefully as she explained, "You're over twice my height even then. How the hell do you expect me to teach you?"
He just grinned like a goddamn maniac.
She took a step back, wary. 'Way to go, you've cracked him.' The mercenary berated herself. Dammit! She was a bodyguard for Sari Sumdac! Nothing more! When the fuck had 'Teacher of Robots' been added to it?! No, 'Dance Teacher to Robots' would be more specific, and appropriate. Scowling, she crossed her arms and cocked a hip to the side, waiting to see what, exactly, Jazz was going to do.
Jazz transformed down into his vehicle form. She waited further. A storm of bright blue light lit up the inside of the car. The door swung open, and an African-American man stepped out. With a nicely shaped face, black hair done up in dreads, pulled back in a ponytail falling to about his upper back, a bright blue visor adorning his face, and a suave smile- he was very good looking. He strode over to her jauntily, a sense of confidence wrapped around him like a blanket. His white, black, and red robe like clothing accenting his good looks and bringing them out. It reminded her or some sort of ninja garb, though it was much brighter then she would expect such a person to wear.
She narrowed her gaze.
"...You planned this the whole time."
"Planned ta what?" Jazz grinned innocently,
"To use… that." She waved a hand at the human version of him, "To do… something. You planned this the whole time."
"'Ah admit, 'ah borrowed the holoprojector from Prowl cause 'ah thought it might come in handy. With a few modifications it fit my needs perfect. 'Ah think ah'll get one of my own after this." He admitted, never losing his grin. In fact it only grew larger.
"You…" She groaned and rubbed her face,
"Now ya' gotta teach me this dance." He fixed her with a serious look through his glasses, "C'mon… please?"
She scowled at him, then sighed, smoothing her features out so that they were blank. How bad could it be?
"..." She extended a hand to him with false calm and confidence. He was going to be the death of her. Jazz beamed and took it, grunting slightly when she yanked him to her with a slight smirk,
"Now… your hands go here, and here." She guided one hand to his waist, and held the other in her own hand, noting he was at least six foot, four inches; a good bit taller then her.
Perfect.
"My other goes here." She settled her free hand on his shoulder, "Ready?" He nodded. She blew air out of her nose in a sigh, listening to the music for a moment.
"Fall in rhythm with the music." She murmured, "Like so…" She began to lead him through the motions, "One, two, three, one, two, three…" Jazz fell in step with her, learning quickly. She had to hand it to him, he never once stepped on her toes.
Must be the ninja training coming into play.
Before she knew it, she didn't even have to count, or lead. Jazz simply fell into the motions and guided her with him, humming softly to the music. Without even realizing it, the cold mercenary laid her head on the mech's chest, and closed her eyes. Never once had she been held like this. Never once had she gotten to dance with someone like this. The dance itself had been taught to her by a giant of a man from Russia, but after that, no one had been tall enough to lead her through the motions. This was… nice. Peaceful. Even… no. She banished the thought. Better not to get too attached, or think too deeply on it- it was enough to simply enjoy the moment, to bask in it until it was gone.
After that, she would go back to being… well… 'her'. What was expected of her.
"Is tha' a smile 'ah see?" Her eyes popped open and she smoothed her features out quickly.
"...No."
Her blunt, defensive response made him pout, "Aw, don' worry, I won' tell no one." He promised her, gliding with her across the roof of the Autobot base, "Ya' can smile all ya' want. Makes ya' look pretty." He grinned and she scowled… then slowly smiled. It felt weird. It had been a long time since she had allowed herself to smile, even if it was just a small one. But something about Jazz just… made her trust him.
Damn him and his sneaky ninja ass. It… was a nice ass though.
"Jazz?"
"Yeah?"
"...Thank you."
He simply smiled and continued to hum softly along with the played music, gliding with her around the roof.
They continued to dance well into the night.