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"Phone Call"

Chapter One

It had to be pathetic that he was already dreading this day off. He had been informed, in no uncertain terms, that he either used his vacation days or he lost them. After a significant amount of thought on the matter the night before that included the pros and cons of allowing the loss of the days, the motorcycle cop decided to wash his car and both bikes in his driveway before running a few errands on his Harley and to keep the days he had accumulated. The weather was bright and sunny, no rain was called for, the vehicles had been gathering dust, and he truly had nothing better to do for most of the day since he was up at five in the morning regardless of if he had work or not. His body would not allow him to deviate much from his accustomed schedule.

Breakfast was a silent affair in his little cottage, but very good. Pancakes with powdered sugar on them and a few sausage links was a great start to the day in his opinion. It wasn't his normal fare, but he had all the time in the world this day with no duties to see to, and with that came his casual wardrobe, of which there was little.

His biker boots were something nobody at the station would have associated him with, but that he had truly adored since he had gotten them the year before from his closest friend as a Christmas present. The same could be said for his tight-across-the-ass jeans and tight black t-shirt. The shirt didn't stay on for long once he was able to start washing his vehicles and was dried by the sun where it hung on the porch railing as the day wore on.

When he next checked his watch, the time lapse became much more apparent, there having been several hours taken up by detailing a Dodge Challenger and two bikes. The station's motorcycle and sports car were soon moved back into his garage. His leather jacket and helmet were thankfully just inside the front door and were donned after his shirt so that he could leave the house.

He did have to stop by the station for a short moment to drop off a few small items that fit into his saddlebags with room to spare and to tell his boss that he needed two days off the weekend before the Fourth of July. His mother demanded his presence at the family reunion – something he truly would much rather avoid for many more than one reason. Many of his family members invited their friends' families and he was rather tired of being pushed at all of the available women at the functions or, for that matter, being fawned over by them. The only saving grace in his opinion was that he was only required to attend one other reunion a year if he went to that one – Christmas.

The drive into the city proved uneventful until he got to the precinct and parked. The noise his Harley made had drawn attention his way and several cops had emerged from the building to catch a glimpse of his bike. He laid his helmet on the seat and grabbed his files before heading their way.

"That's one sweet bike, man," one of the rookie cops said, gazing at his black machine in envy.

"Thank you," he said with a quick nod to the man, brushing past to go inside.

"You do know that's employee parking."

"Yes."

The man followed him inside. "So why are you parked there?"

"Blades, I am any officer and this is my day off."

He scoffed at the older man. "How can you afford that fine machine?"

"Because I built it from several bikes from the junkyards and help from a couple of my friends and military buddies."

"Military? Really?" the rookie snorted. "Right. Like you were military. You aren't old enough."

"Kid, I and my few surviving brothers were discharged from the service because they didn't know if we'd make a full recovery from our wounds. It is a miracle I myself am still able to walk, let alone run and perform as needed for the force."

"Hey Officer Prowl!" the young lady at the front desk greeted cheerfully. "Do you need to get back to see the Chief? He's in right now."

"Hello to you too, Arcee. Has your shift been okay? No one bothering you?" He paused for a moment, "Yes, I do need to speak to the Chief, but it's not overly urgent."

She giggled. "Shift's been fine, just rather boring. Sound's been sending me clips from some of the calls so I know how Roddy is since he doesn't have a partner right now."

Prowl's hand clenched unconsciously as he thought about his own previous partner when he was at a different station. He was the reason he had requested to work alone at this precinct. "How is that relationship working out for you? Springer isn't still threatening him is he?"

"Oh, Roddy treats me wonderfully! And I am so thankful my brother finally stopped threatening one of his best friends. Now I just have to work on Daddy so he isn't pulling his shotgun out every time he comes to the house."

"He'll always do that, 'Cee. My Pa still pulls his out on my sisters' husbands even though they've been married for years now."

The strawberry blonde huffed. "Men."

He chuckled quietly. "Watch my baby for me, why don't you?"

"You rode in on Glory?"

"Sure did. Washed her real good this morning."

"Will do then! And gladly. She's a beaut."

"I'll see you on my way out."

She waved him through with a grin. "You gonna be at the coffee shop later?"

"Yes."

"I'll meet ya so we can talk some more. Roddy should be there."

The dark-haired man grinned. "That means I get to add my threats to Springer and Kup's!" he called over his shoulder. Her noise of frustration made him chuckle some more. She was just too much fun to bait.

"Hey man. Isn't this your day off?" a pretty caramel-skinned woman asked as he passed the break room.

Prowl stopped to chat for a second. "It is, yes. I just needed to drop a couple of things off and talk to the Chief."

"Your moma makin' ya go to the Fourth's get-together?"

He sighed heavily. "I just wish she'd give up, Soundwave."

"She's too persistent for her own good, agreed. But go on. Shoo. It's your day off. Enjoy it."

A smile tugged at his lips. "See you later."

"Come by the club sometime. You need to meet my boyfriend."

"I'll see about it."

The rest of his walk was uneventful and he was able to toss his files on his desk quickly. The sooner he got to the Chief's office, the quicker he hoped to be able to leave. It wasn't that he didn't like the man – he did – but he always looked like he never got anything done and was extremely stressed. That could have been from some of the mechs he had to command though. Many of his colleagues could be and were total assholes on a normal basis.

A sharp rap on the door a short time later with an answering, muffled 'come in', and he was standing before the Chief. He waited to be addressed, observing the man that was his "Commanding Officer". What he saw was not what he expected. The grey-haired man was massaging his temples and the back of his neck with his reading glasses lying on the desk between his elbows. It seemed that he needed either some time off or some heavy-duty pain killers and aspirin.

"What is it you need, Prowl?"

"My mother-"

"The weekend before the Fourth. I had that penciled in tentatively. I'll go ahead and put it in pen. Thank you."

"Thank you, sir. Is there anything I can get you?"

"I have it in my top drawer, but thank you for your concern. Dismissed."

Prowl left the room rather disgruntled. "Oh well," he muttered, making his way out of the station and to his bike with an absent wave to Arcee. His next stop was the grocery store. A few ingredients he considered necessities were running low in his kitchen and, if he found anything that caught his eye, he might get something extra. After all, Lockdown was supposed to be visiting sometime that week and his taste was just a little different from Prowl's in many things. Where the cop had a slight sweet tooth, his friend loved anything and everything sweet. Prowl enjoyed more spice than Lockdown, and when they cooked for each other, they normally ended up seasoning each other's food differently so that they both enjoyed what they were eating – though they also stole food off of the other's plate part of the meal.

There was no way to plan around his visits as he never gave a set time and, even when he did, he rarely kept to it being a day or two off one way or another. The tattooed man had a key to his cottage so that he could come and go as he pleased and not be stuck outside or look like he was breaking into the house. Otherwise he would have had a number of problems as he engendered enough fear just by driving into the neighborhood that some of the housewives apparently kept a phone nearby so that they could call the police quickly if they felt like they needed to. They had actually come over on his off time and asked him about the man and told him that they had done so after the first time he had appeared out of nowhere. They weren't quite as wary of him since then, but he just had that effect on people in general – even when they knew him.

Lockdown had laughed hard when he found out about that, but made it a point since then to give the cop a heads up for the week he'd be by so he could warn the women. If there was one place he hated, it was a police station when he didn't walk into it of his own free will. Visiting Prowl while he worked at his desk was an entirely different matter. He had done that often at the last precinct he had worked at, but had yet to put in appearance there – the cop secretly suspected the building was being inspected first, and very thoroughly, along with all of the personnel.

As he walked up and down the aisles, unfamiliar with the store, he kept twitching imperceptively. It seemed like a number of single – and not so single – women had chosen to come to the same store at the same time and he was getting uncomfortable with the looks he kept getting. Thankfully he found the items fast before heading back to the snack aisles. They always ate a lot of junk food when his friend was over and this time would be no exception. Several of their favorites – chocolate bars, kettle cooked chips, Sprees, Sweetarts, Biscoff cookies, and the like – were added to his basket before he left the area and headed towards the checkout counter, soon leaving the store with his purchases. A stop at the liquor store was called for where he picked up a bottle of whiskey, bourbon, and their favorite wine. They always had something that went well with the wine and the others were just good.

His phone buzzed in his pocket insistently. The ID showed a picture of a young strawberry blonde. Hey! My break's in ten minutes. Mind pickin me up?

His reply was short and to the point. Be there in five.

He hung around outside the precinct for about ten minutes waiting for Arcee to leave the building. When she did, he was glad to note that she had brought the helmet he had gifted her with the birthday after she became interested in motorcycles. She bounced down the steps and hurried over to him, grinning widely.

"Glory's looking real good, Prowl."

A slight smile graced his face at the compliment to his bike. "You ready to go?"

"Of course! Roddy's waiting on us!"

"As my lady commands," he teased, settling onto the Harley with her and driving a short ways down the streets to the favorite little coffee shop of their precinct's cops. There was no place better and it was easy to see with the number of cars parked out front and the size of the shop. They had to expand the establishment a few years before to accommodate the constant flux of officers and other customers. He was glad there was designated motorcycle parking as the rest of the parking lot was a mad house and his Glory may not have been quite safe.

"Let's get inside!" She was extremely excited to introduce them as Prowl tended to know whether her relationships would last or not. It was an interesting phenomenon as he rarely listened to gossip and never passed it along so he knew nothing about the men she had previously dated before meeting them the first time. It made one wonder about his past. He shared very little and what he had said to the new rookie earlier in the day was about the extent of what could be pulled from him or Soundwave about it.

Thankfully Hot Rod had commandeered a booth where they could sit and talk comfortably as rush hour was not quite finished and being closer to the counter would not have been enjoyable in the least with the crush of people there. She cuddled up to him happily after bouncing over. The off-duty officer was left to make his way over to them and arrived just before the harried waiter did. He hurried away after getting their orders.

"I'll never understand how you, as a guy, can drink something so frou-frou," the beat cop muttered.

"A cappuccino is nowhere near as bad as drinking a daiquiri as a guy. Those are horrible and do not carry even a hint of masculinity."

Arcee laughed. "You just got told, Roddy." The teasing made him pout, but he grinned as he poked his girlfriend in the side making her squeak.

They quieted as their orders were placed in front of them. Prowl grabbed his cappuccino as soon as it was set down and took a sip, smiling in internal bliss that had his two companions laughing and the waiter staring in consternation. It wasn't often anybody reacted like that.

"What? This is the first bit of coffee I've had today. I was out of it at my house. A cop should never start a day without coffee."

"There was some at the station."

He snorted, an eyebrow raised. "That stuff I wouldn't wish on any but my worst enemy. As it is, they aren't available at the moment."

"Unless Soundwave brings in her own mix."

Prowl grinned. "Who do you think she got it from? My Ma makes some of the best coffee ever and I have that 'recipe' myself."

"Oh man, you've so got to get it to me! I so want it. But anyway. Roddy, this is Prowl. He's a motorcycle officer and sometimes works with the detectives on cases. He knows my family and is a good friend."

The red-haired officer extended a hand to him over the table that was clasped in a quick handshake. "Pleasure to meet you."

"And you. Just remember, you break her heart, you'll have another person hunting you down and I have connections. Don't think I'll be scared to use them." His tone left the other officer slight on the shocked side as the information delivered left a shock of cold running through his body since it was never lightly shared. Anybody who said that was serious if it was delivered like it had been and was someone to never cross. His threats made even Springer's look like child's play in comparison – and that was saying something as Prowl was much smaller than his friend and seemed much more passive.

Arcee released a long suffering sigh. "Now that your threats are done with, can we move on?"

"Of course, 'Cee. I just have to torment you. Be glad you aren't one of my sisters."

"Oh, I am. From the stories Soundwave tells me about how you tormented them, I am very glad."

"Yeah. Sound's got some good stories of those times. Of course, she also joined in on the fun."

Author's Notes: This does not have their real names as they're mostly referred to in relation to the nicknames they got at the precinct. Those will come in in the next few chapters of this. I'd love to know what everybody thinks of this and if I should continue posting it. Thanks for taking the time to read this.