First Prowl Appearance! Yes!
A/N: I Do Not Own Transformers
I really have nothing else to say, so...enjoy! :D
Whiplash sat in his office. He was noiseless, as he was reorganizing the information in the criminal files section of his processor. The Chief of Enforcer's tasks took up most of his time, and movement of the physical status was restricted whether it was inside or outside of the now-darkened office.
Accessing criminal sector. Objective: Sort, store, delete.
File 00014601. Designation: Surablack Case, occurrence: three millennia from previous orn.
Error. Computing process restricted by mass document clutter. Save or delete?
"Sir?"
He opened his optics. Xerxea, one of the former warriors with unpredictable, sporadic seizures, stood in the doorway. Her tall, slender frame was enveloped in shadow, but her purple optics glowed.
"Yes, Xerxea?"
She shifted from one pede to the other. "There is someone here to see you."
He did not recall a scheduled meeting. "Who might this be?"
Xerxea's arm jerked, but she forced it down, her gaze narrowing. "Prowl."
He leaned back in his chair, processor scrambling to unearth a reason on why the master detective, tactician, and spy would want to speak with him. "Very well. Send him in, and then go acquire some recharge. Your condition will not stabilize with your working for hours on end."
Xerxea nodded and left. A few moments later, a tall black and gold Praxian with spiked, lethal looking doorwings appeared.
"It would be wise to schedule a meeting. You should not demand admission into my office while at the same time frightening my assistant in the process."
"That would be wise." He crossed his hands behind his back, a vacant look clouding his gaze. "However, should I have scheduled, you would be fifteen point five second late, having just returned with a meeting from the Enforcers of Iacon." Prowl faced him. "Unpunctuality is not a trait I favor."
Whiplash tilted his helm, an amused smile crossing his faceplate. "You never fail to astound me, do you?"
The Praxian stared at him, his cold optics analyzing with a scrutiny that made the normally fearless officer uneasy. "I astound many, but not myself. It is a manner of perspective in which I see things. The said astonished have primitive minds that simply cannot see straight to the fact."
Whiplash nodded, though he was unsure of whether or not the Autobot had meant to insult him.
"I understand that you have informed the staff that I require a new partner?" Prowl questioned.
"Yes."
"Toleration of your announcement was not a given requirement?"
"I do not command my officers to favor my every order."
"I did not say did or have to." Once again, the Praxian was staring at him with a rather chilling amount of impassiveness, a stare that made the Chief think the Autobot was reading his very soul. After a moment of unsettling silence, Whiplash leaned back in his chair.
"What do you want, Prowl?"
"What I want, I already have." He turned away, looking out of the window.
"I do not favor conundrums."
The detective began to speak, but he stopped, seeming to freeze in place.
"Prowl." Whiplash knew that the Praxian would immobilize at times, but for what reason, he did not know. There was no way to predict it.
The Praxian did not respond, though Whiplash noticed his grip tighten on the windowsill. He continued to stare out of the window, his gaze narrowed.
"Prowl." Whiplash repeated the designation, authority laced throughout his voice.
Whiplash stood and approached Prowl ,who continued to stare.
"Prowl, what—?"
The Praxian whipped around, making the Chief move back in surprise.
"Give this information precisely: take only the bare essentials, no exceptions. Various Enforcer tactics will need to be shown; defectiveness will be uncovered should it be detected. Report to Sector 211B of Iacon Central."
Whiplash shook his helm. "Prowl, what are you talking about?"
The Autobot faced him, his optics darkening a few shades. "Impaired, you are."
The Enforcer Chief narrowed his gaze. "I do not know what you mean."
Prowl sensed the dark stain of irritation, and he tilted his helm slightly, doorwings rising. "Use your processor, Whiplash."
He stepped into the hallway, dodging a crowd of trainees with a single move. Turning back to the Enforcer Chief, his gaze blazed somewhat menacingly in the dim lighting.
"What do you think I mean?"
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