Author's Note:
I don't know if it's considered 'advertising', but go see the Imitation Game! I saw it twice and the main guy reminds me of Prowl. Y'know, that lovable, socially awkward guy who's also a math genius. It was really good :P I also went on YouTube to see how someone talked and got distracted by a bunch of funny videos. Whoops.
Anyway, Thanks so much for the reviews guys! I'll do my best to keep it coming. ^_^ Enjoy!
Prowl's P.O.V.
Groaning internally, I came online. My hearing and sense of smell were the first to boot up, and I smelt disinfectant and heard medical machines beeping and whirring. So, I'm in the medbay, I thought groggily. Onlining my optics, I came face-to-face with a certain Chief Medical Officer.
"Welcome to the world of the functioning," he greeted dryly. I groaned softly, before closing my optics. I must have had another crash. It took me a moment, but once I realized what had happened before I crashed, I started to panic. Optics flying open to Ratchet's retreating back, I struggled to get up and take a look myself. Was I injured? How did I return to base? I was stopped by a strong hand gently shoving me back down. Ratchet was ever-perceptive, as always. "You're alright, Prowl. You're not injured, all you did was crash." Furrowing my brows together, I processed this in confusion. That would've meant that the Decep-Jazz, I corrected myself- must not have taken advantage of the situation and had not attacked or killed me.
"...What happened..?" I ground out, my vocalizer rough. Ratchet gave me a perplexed look.
"You tell me. The others told us that one moment you went to fetch some water for the energon, and the next they heard a loud thump and you were fried like an ant under a magnifying glass," he explained. "...The saying was from Hound, naturally." Frowning, I stored that information to process another time and instead focused on something else.
"Did all of the others return with me, or are there some still on the mission?" Muttering under his breath at what a workaholic I was, he went to one of the machines monitoring me.
"You're more important than a few traces of Decepticon activity, Prowl. Of course they all returned with you." Thinking, I nodded. There was some Decepticon activity in the area, and I came face to face with one. Perhaps he knew about my glitch and used it against me to get rid of possible Autobot interference. Shaking my head slightly, I decided against it. There was a very low probability of that happening, as only a few Autobots knew of my glitch. My thoughts skipped over the conversation again, before catching onto something Ratchet had mentioned.
"...us?" This caused Ratchet to stop what he was doing and turn around to face me, giving me a look that seemed to mean, 'Why yes, you idiot.'
"Yes. Us. You don't think Optimus would let something like this slip by him, would you?" Of course not, I thought to myself tiredly. Shaking my head to show him I understood, he continued to talk. "He also stated that he was worried about your mental health. And, seeing as you glitched for no apparent reason-" he cut off, shooting me a pointed glare "-he came to me asking for an extended medical leave." No! I have work to do..!
"But I-" Cutting off any possible protests I had by tossing up a wrench, he explained. Sort of.
"He told me to tell you that 'you would know the reason for this'. He seemed worried, Prowl. He didn't even tell me what it was all about, the stubborn mech," he grumbled the last part. All I knew was that even before the war started Ratchet and my father were close friends. He left me to go to his office, shouting a warning over his shoulder about me even thinking about leaving.
Sighing, I turned onto my side to get off of my wings. Just the same old Ratchet, I thought to myself with slight irritation, and slight fondness. When Optimus was busy doing whatever it was a leader of an army did, Ratchet always seemed to be on 'bot-sitting duty', as he loved to call it. All it was, was me sitting in his Medbay while he did his work and kept a proverbial optic on me. He still bugs me about it to this day. Everyone else on base – especially the twins – say that he installed another, hidden optic in the back of his head because of this, just to keep an eye on the 'idiots' of the base. Which, to Ratchet, seemed to be everyone at some point. It was of course false, the only thing that he really had was a keen sense of seeing and hearing.
Grumbling to myself about having no work and no choice but to do so, I slipped back into recharge.
- / -
Jazz's P.O.V.
I hummed lightly to myself, drumming my fingers across the edge of Soundwave's desk. We had just came back from the mission a half an hour ago, and as I was not the leading officer of this mission, I had to wait as Starscream filled in to our glorious leader. It was in the middle of the Afternoon, and the drillers had dug fast this morning to find promising results. The tunnel's bottom had opened to a natural cave, with a small stream running through which in ancient times must've been a grand under-ground river. The cave was loaded with rich energon deposits which would last us about a decade. So far so good, and as far as I knew it Starscream had no idea about the temporary Autobot party.
Which brought my thoughts around in full circle. Thankful that Soundwave wouldn't be listening in as long as he was working, I returned to the main thing that was pestering me. Prowl had fainted. Or… something. Whatever it was, it sure as pit didn't look natural. No, one moment I answered his question, and the next his optics had spaced out, and a muffled sizzle had followed suit. The bot just went limp and unconscious on the spot. It creeped me out, is what it did, I convinced myself. For as soon as I saw it, a feeling I haven't felt before had seized me around my spark casing, and it was all I could do to catch him before the damn weirdo fell into the stream.
A drop-dead gorgeous weirdo, my thoughts inserted dreamily before I could stop them. Choking back on that slightly, I gave Soundwave a peek. He was currently signing off on a datapad, before turning and shuffling through some feedback on his office computer. Still working. Good. Sighing in agitation, I twisted myself around in his chair once more. This time I was upside-down, and I could see Soundwave's dark blue pedes as solitary as ever.
Maybe he did drop dead, finding me gorgeous, I smirked, going down this trail yet again. With nothing else to do, I returned to my thoughts on him. He was straight-forward, and did his best to appear emotionless and detached. Though, I was pleased when he ran those calculating optics over me, although it did seem as if he could see straight into my spark. I gave a slight kick with one of my legs, keeping energon flowing into the limb. Frowning, I wished he weren't dead. How was I supposed to admire the guy, if he were dead? Shaking my head slightly to steer me away from those thoughts, I chewed my lip.
I was, in fact, concerned if Starscream found out that I had interacted with an Autobot target. And if he told Megatron, well... Let's just say I'd be scrap metal. Especially seeing as I didn't kill them. Not a one, either, even though it was tempting. I was too out of my mind at that moment, and as soon as I had let the beautiful dead-like mech down, I had ran to a tree and kicked as hard as I could. It was the only way to really alert the others without letting them know a 'con was nearby. And who knows what happened to him. Maybe he is dead, I frowned.
When they had ran past, I was already scrambling into the darkness, moving as swiftly as I dared as far as I could get. The Autobot party had thankfully pulled back into their territory, and I came down to erase any and all evidence. I couldn't let anyone else know this, for it was considered helping them. But if Starscream found out what I did, and found out that I hadn't reported this to him, he'd use me as leverage to get on Megatron's good side. And then I wouldn't exist anymore, I thought grimly.
"Work; completed. Jazz; still. What is the matter?" came an even, monotone voice from above. Sighing, I cut off any thoughts about Prowl and flipped myself so I could look at him. He cleared a space so that he could see me, and rested his hands face down on the desk. His visor and mask covered anything as to not give away any emotion, like someone else I know. Great.
"'Screamer ain't my first choice ta hang around," I grumbled. He stared at me, not saying anything, so I knew he wasn't buying it. Groaning, I slumped down onto his desk with my head resting on my arms. "That bein' said, I didn't report ta him about some Autobots that came 'round and left. They didn't pose much if any threat, so Ah didn't bother ta tell 'im," I explained softly. I kept my voice low the whole time so no-one outside could eavesdrop.
"Ah'm worryin' 'bout what he could say 'f he found out." Not a full confession, but a confession none-the less. Soundwave could probably already figure out that I was stressed, not just because of my body-language, but because my accent became more pronounced. I only let it slide with him, and well – let's not think about that right now.
Nodding, he thought about this. "Starscream; has not found out yet. Jazz; make sure that he wouldn't?" he inquired.
Surprised he would suggest this, I smiled sheepishly at him. "…yeah…" Pausing, he nodded once more.
"Jazz; has nothing to worry about." I blinked at him, and he explained. "Subject; deemed situation non-threatening. Mission; scouting only." Staring at him for a few more seconds, a tiny smile overtook my blank face. He was covering for me – something that was as rarely done among Decepticons as murder was in the Autobots. I nodded my thanks, relaxing immensely. Soundwave nodded back, and stood.
"Request; accompaniment to main computer?" Allowing my smile to grow a bit more, I stood myself and gestured for him to go first.
- / -
Prowl's P.O.V.
I flicked my wings in agitation, as I was alone in my quarters. I had went to my office earlier once Ratchet had finally released me, only to find that Optimus had overwritten my codes and changed the password to open the door. It seems as if he was more determined than ever to ensure that my mental health was alright. However it was backfiring because it simply added to my stress. What was I to do without work? The only other things I did that were outside my office were refuelling, recharging, or I was in meetings, or off on a mission. I was currently sitting in my desk in my quarters. I had searched the drawers for any set-aside work, however my father must have been thorough – my whole quarters were barren of any datapads.
Frowning deeper, my thoughts returned to Jazz and his lack of knowing music. Before I knew it, I was walking through my door. I found myself at our Communications Officer Blaster's office door, and after a moment of thought, I knocked.
"C'mon in," was the response. Sighing imperceptibly, I entered to find a very surprised Blaster. Communications offices consisted of a chair at a computer console, with many monitors and radars. One of them was beeping softly, before Blaster typed something in to quiet it. He turned to face me in his chair, puzzlement written clearly over his face. Making sure to keep my wings in tight formation and my face empty, I dipped my head slightly in acknowledgement.
"What can I do for ya, Prowl?" He greeted. Odd, he and Jazz seem to share a similar accent… Shaking my head, I responded.
"I am not on duty, Blaster. I'm merely curious," I began. This seemed to make Blaster more confused, and in turn he gestured for me to take a seat in one of his lounging chairs. Hesitating for a moment, I took the offer and sat, raising my wings a litter higher so that they did not touch the back of the chair. Blaster smiled up at me a little, attempting to be welcoming.
"So what are ya curious about, then? Ya ain't seen often outside of ya're office." Frowning, I decided that telling him the reason why wouldn't be harmful.
"That would be because Optimus locked me out of it." I wasn't expecting, however, for Blaster to burst out laughing. Apparently such an event was hilarious. For me, it was simply stressful. Noticing my lack of humor, Blaster straightened, chuckling a little bit.
"I 'spose that ain't really funny for ya, huh?" Allowing a small frown, he got the last few chuckles out of his system before waving me on.
"Two things. Firstly, I would like to know if you had access to a universal chip that you could put some music onto," I began. Obviously interested, he smiled some more before taking said chip out with a flourish and plugging it into the computer console.
"Anythin' ya had in mind?" He was ready to type into his computer, his face telling me that he was finding the situation as odd as a Decepticon wearing pink. I thought a moment. He would tell others, and then me listening to music that I did not like would spread around base like a wildfire.
"How about some of everything? I haven't really listened to music and I barely know it." He gave me another odd look. "I have nothing else to do for a week, as I am on 'medical leave', and both Ratchet and Optimus insist on me having no work to do," I stressed. Blaster relaxed a little bit before chuckling.
"Sure thin'. So, like, wha', a starter pack kinda thin'?" Thinking a moment, I nodded.
"Precisely."
"Then why didn' ya say so," he grinned, and typed furiously into his computer. "Now, there's different genres. I have 10 differen' ones and th' music'll be listed under those genres," he explained excitedly, before shooting me an amused side-smile. "I thought ya'd like that. Now, th' genres are as follows; Rock, Alternative rock, Dubstep or dance or electronic, Pop, Hip-hop or rap, country, classical, Jazz or blues, RB n' soul, and last bu' not least, Soundtrack. Th' or's are 'cause some genres are called a couple 'a thin's." Pulling the now-full chip out of his computer, he handed it to me with a wide grin. "There ya are! 1,000 songs," he chuckled. "Think that'll last ya a week?"
Appalled, I took it. "Try a lifetime," I grumbled dryly. This produced a loud guffaw from him, and he slapped me on my shoulder. I frowned at the contact. I stood up, and once he had calmed down, I spoke to him about another topic. "Another curious thing that I have noticed today." At his curious tilt of his head, I continued. "Where did you get that accent? Not many Autobots have one," I questioned. He blinked at me a couple of times before shaking his red helm.
"I didn't 'get' my accent. I was born wit' it, silly." I tilted my own head in curiosity, and ignored the last part.
"Then do all members of a family line with the gene have an accent?" Raising an eyebrow, his face became stern. Leaning forward, he frowned at me.
"Why ya so curious 'bout this? Only me 'n 'hide have 'em." Looking to my left, I thought of an answer, before tilting my wings slightly.
"Would you prefer I ask Ironhide about his accent?" I responded dryly. My dry responses had him chuckling last time, and it had worked on Blaster another time. He smiled a bit and relaxed a little.
"I s'pose ya can't, huh? And Optimus is always workin'," he carefully replied, leaning back. "Like ya." Lifting my wings back into my tight formation, I nodded. He breathed a long sigh, before shaking his head. "No, only th' mechs with th' gene get it. My brother don't got one," he said out of the blue, his optics distant. He snorted in dry amusement. "But then again, he wasn't much of a talker anyway." He went silent, and I frowned. It had seemed this conversation had gotten personal. Clearing my throat lightly to bring him out of his reverie, I changed topics.
"And neither do I, so may I ask that this conversation and exchange," I lifted and showed him the chip he had gave me. "Remain a secret? I do not wish to be pestered by some twins about what I did here." That earned an amused chuckle. He nodded before standing up.
"Sure thin'. Those two can be a lil' hassle sometimes, that's for sure." Smiling, he lifted a hand. I shook it, murmuring agreement.
"…Thank you. I will leave you to your work." He nodded, before stretching out and yawning.
"Mm-hmm. See ya at th' meetin' tomorrow. Hopefully then ya'll be able to attend," he teased. Nodding, I turned and left just as he sat back down into his chair. Subspacing the chip, I hovered outside for a brief moment, before returning to my quarters.
