4
Prowl sat in the med bay arms crossed over his chest as he watched Ratchet. He stood before the tactician with a data pad practically clenched in his hands. The medic grunted as he scrolled through the data, his usual scowl plastered on his face. Ratchet looked to Prowl, Bluestreak, then back to his data pad with his scowl growing into a look of just general irritation.
"I have scanned you three times. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. Perhaps you just crashed." Ratchet droned out and Prowl stiffened, his wings rising in a clear display of unwillingness to accept his diagnosis.
"Are you certain?" Prowl pushed, his own scowl searching the medic. "You scanned everything?" He continued and Ratchet's optics narrowed into deadly slits that promised the tactician unimaginable pain.
"Yes. Prowl." He punctuated and the tone he used was usually enough to silence an entire crowd of rowdy mechs. Prowl however did not head the warning.
"I know what it feels like to crash. That was no crash." He insisted and Ratchet still looked rather unimpressed by the tactician's behavior. Prowl on the other hand stood to match the medic's height. He felt uneasy at the sudden loss of memory in a certain saboteur's company and wasn't willing to believe that there was nothing wrong with him.
"You overworked yourself. End of story." Ratchet growled and once again Prowl stood firm, growing defensive.
"I've gone far longer than that without any form of recharge and have been able to function perfectly fine. I'm sorry but I cannot believe that I simply 'overworked' myself Ratchet. It seems highly illogical." Ratchet huffed and crossed his arms over his chest giving Prowl a withering glare.
"Oh. Don't tell me that you honestly believe Jazz somehow fazed through charged bars and knocked you unconscious and even though he had the chance didn't escape?"
"Yes! He is…" Prowl defended but stopped before the words could escape his vocalizer. His optics widened quite suddenly and for the first time in a very, very long time, Prowl felt foolish. He was beginning to believe that Jazz, the Decepticon that everybody in the single base actively feared wasn't bound by general logic. That he wasn't bound by the very laws of physics…. That Jazz wasn't mortal.
A rather drowning sigh escaped the tactician's mouth as he placed a hand on his nasal ridge. He was being completely and totally irrational by believing the dark rumors that every single mech seemed to be avidly sharing about the 'ghost' that was currently held in the brig.
"I apologize. Perhaps I am overworked." Prowl paused and shook his head slowly. "I am being highly illogical." Prowl admitted and it was probably the hardest thing to say. If felt like broken glass exiting his mouth. Ratchet snorted, loudly.
"He's getting to you Prowl." The medic warned. "I've never in my entire time of working beside you, seen you so… bothered. You have interrogated countless Decepticons. Officers even. None of them have ever been able to get under your plating. What is he doing to you Prowl?" Ratchet asked and his irritated growl slowly morphed and turned soft as it showed Ratchet's actual concern. Prowl studied him but found no response. He wasn't one to give excuses and he knew that Ratchet was indeed correct. Jazz was getting to him. Ratchet shook his head at the lack of answer and turned to work on something behind him.
"You're not going to stop. I know you. You obsessive twit." Ratchet grunted out and Prowl's eyes narrowed at that statement but the medic continued after a loud huff. "Besides. I thought you might like to know that I have received word from Optimus. He's finishing up and should be back soon."
"Do we have an ETA?" Prowl intoned sounding a lot more excited or rather, as excited as Prowl could get. Ratchet seemed to find humor in this because he snorted again.
"For obvious security reasons." Ratchet muttered and Prowl slowly began to bob his head in a nod as he contemplated the information.
"Soundwave?" He asked..
"Is assumed to be in the area." Ratchet informed him taking a step to further fiddle with some more of his medical equipment that was conveniently in his proximity. Prowl grunted in confirmation. "At least with Optimus's imminent return you will only have to deal with our special guest for a little while longer." Ratchet added as an afterthought as he picked up a pile of fine tools and walked out of the room without a single word elsewise. Prowl watched him go and his optics narrowed at the thought. What would happen with Jazz when Optimus returned?
Bluestreak, who had remained uncharacteristicly quiet throughout the whole ordeal, mainly out of fear of Ratchet's unavoidable wrath, turn to Prowl in a silent plea to leave the med bay. As if reading his mind, Prowl gave a singular nod of his head and turned to the door.
"I'm going to finally recharge now." Prowl informed him the second the door had closed behind them and Bluestreak nodded with a pleasant smile.
"I think that's the best idea you could have come up with." He chirped with an easy going smile. "Shall I make sure nobody disturbs you then, Prowl?" He asked and Prowl seemed relieved at the aspect.
"Yes. I trust you to take care of my duties while I am otherwise engaged?" He asked even though he knew he really didn't need to.
"Of course. Anytime you need me. They don't call me your right hand mech for nothing." He joked and Prowl gave one of his rare smiles that seemed to be more of lip spasm than an actual expression.
"I appreciate it, Bluestreak. You are one of the very few mechs I would trust to carry out my job." He answered.
….
Jazz wasn't expecting any visitors anytime soon and the sound of the brig door hissing open brought him online instantly. He listened and knew immediately that this visitor wasn't Prowl. The gait was all wrong. This was a much smaller mech.
"Hey there, Meister." The stranger greeted and it was enough to cause Jazz stand with a graceful roll that had him hunched in a predatory crouch as practically glared at the new mech. He tensed his hands, flicking his fingers and causing the low lighting to reflect off of his claws.
"Ah haven't gone by that designation for a good while now." Jazz began and the yellow mech gave an easy going laugh as he pulled the chair up to the bars and took a seat, completely at ease even though if Jazz wanted to, he could easily reach through the bars and cause some damage.
"Funny what changes." The yellow bot paused and laughed waving his hand. "Sorry! I just realized how rude I'm being. My name's Bumblebee." The yellow mech tried to placate that already tense spy. Jazz tilted his head to the side. He recognized that name.
"Special ops."
"Yep! That's me." He answered and the grin seemed genuine.
"Now that you an me are well acquainted and such. Mind tell a mech what yer doin' here? Givin' me the creeps considering the fact that you ain't on the roster for mechs ta be visiting meh." Jazz intoned and Bumblebee nodded, still smiling.
"I figured you'd have that hacked by now." He stated as if it was no big deal. This perked Jazz's interested. "I'm just here for a little chat. Thought you might like some company." Jazz didn't say anything for a moment as he stood and approached the bars. The yellow bot didn't move, instead he remained still and calm without a single hint of fear.
"That so, yellow?" He asked crouching down so that he was looking up at Bumblebee with his head tilted to the side.
"Please call me Bee. Everyone here does… well except for Prowl. I don't think he believes in nicknames or anything fun." That earned a half smirk and a chuckle from Jazz. "Anywho. I'm actually here because I'm a huge fan of yours."
This caught the spy off guard. He had fans? Autobot fans? This was news. Bumbleebee grinned.
"Hey. I think all special ops here are fans. You're the mech that can get in and out of anything. You're practically a ghost." Jazz smirked before giving the mech before him a full on show of teeth. "What I wouldn't do to learn your secrets." Bumblebee admitted with an easy going wave. Jazz gave snort.
"When ah get out Bee, hit me up. I'll teach ya mah ways. Don expect to get out alive though." He purred with a playful twitch of his head and a cheeky grin. Bumblebee laughed, actually laughed as if that was a perfectly acceptable answer.
"I might be small Jazz but I can hold up my own. Made it this far." He answered and Jazz nodded. It was true. If Bee had made it this long in such a devastating war as a special ops member; he had to be good. After all, special ops lifespans were considerably shorter than everyone else's.
"True that, mah little mech. For a bot, you ain't so bad." They both laughed and Bumblebee snorted.
"Can't say it's mutual. I know some of the slag you've done."
"like yer one to talk, yellow." He smirked and Bumblebee nodded.
"Ah war." Bee hummed.
"Makin' us monstas in the name of political ideals." Bee nodded and Jazz sat further back, kicking his legs out from under him and gaining his general care free mannerisms now that he knew that this yellow bot wasn't out to kill him. At least for now. There was a slight, comfortable silence as if they had been friends for many stellar cycles. Finally Bumblebee sat up, closer to the bars.
"I have to ask, Jazz." At this the spy perked up slightly and hummed in acknowledgement. "Why are you still here? You've got what you came for. If you wanted to, you'd be long gone with none of us the wiser. So why?" Jazz gave a soft sigh, ready to pull out a cheeky retort but nothing came to mind.
He paused and his expression must have showed it because Bee sat back with a rather intrigued quirk of his optic ridges. The yellow bot gave him a sympathizing look and Jazz couldn't for the life of him understand it.
"You don't have anything waiting for you, do you Jazz?" He asked and now the spy gave a bitter bark of a laugh, that he had tried to disguise but failed.
"I ain't never had anything to go to. Even before tha war." Jazz disclosed with a swipe of his claws, dismissing it and all but threatening Bumblebee to continue on with what he was saying.
"But something's caught your interest Jazz otherwise you would have left." Bumblebee pushed and this time Jazz turned his head, a playful smirk now plastered on his face.
"Ya readin too much into this Bee. I'm just chillin'." At this he splayed his hands flat. "Everybot here is terrified of little o' me. I like it. Makes me feel alive." He soothed out with an easy wiggle of his claws and a flicker of his visor. Bumblebee smirked and the fact that he leaned back as if he knew something irritated Jazz greatly. He paused suddenly, sitting up right as he placed a hand to where his com was located. He nodded to the person, giving a thumbs up to the camera.
"Gotta go Jazz. Your favorite mech is on route and I don't think he'd appreciate the fact that I hacked the cell to talk with you." With that the yellow mech stood and replaced the chair. He gave a cheery salute to Jazz, which the spy returned and disappeared through the door as if he had never been there.
….
Prowl walked to the brig, the same way he always went. He had two cubes of energon, one in each hand along with his signature data pads neatly tucked under his arm. He made to turn the corner but stopped as a red arm shot out effectively blocking his path. A red chassis soon accompanied the arm as the unknown mech leaned closer. Prowl frowned and moved to walk around the mech but a shining yellow mech quickly moved and blocked that path as well.
The infamous yellow and red twins stood before him, Sideswipe with a rather… sadistic grin and Sunstreaker with his normal stoic and menacing scowl. Prowl stood straighter, feeling a slight twinge of unease at their hostile body language and he reciprocated by lifting his door wings higher and tensing his frame.
Sideswipe did the opposite of heeding his warnings by moving closer and obviously invading the second in command's comfort zone. It wasn't an uncommon thing for the mech to do but it didn't help that his brother was standing behind him oozing nothing but menace and ill will. Had the two finally lost it?
"Hi there Prowl." Sideswipe greeted leaning still even closer and Prowl frowned but nodded in response to the spoken address.
"Greetings Sideswipe." He turned his head to make optic contact with the yellow twin. "Sunstreaker." He added and the yellow twin jerked his head in response but remained silent and looming. Prowl quickly calculated his chance at a fight with the two of them. If had been Sideswipe alone he could have taken him no problem but his unpredictable twin put the odds in their favor.
"Soooo." Sideswipe began, looking to his hand that was placed firmly on the wall before sliding his icy blue optics to meet Prowl's. Prowl did not look away but was trying to move to a position that would give him better leverage. Sunstreaker must have caught on to this because he slid out from behind his red twin, moving in and also invading Prowl's personal space. He was beginning to feel rather claustrophobic.
"We overheard Ratchet and you talking the other cycle…" He paused and now Prowl was truly confused. What were they getting at?
"That con." Now it was Sunstreaker talking, his deep baritone sounding rather intimidating given the situation.
"Yeah. We heard he's stressing you out and you know, we don't like that. That's our job." He stopped and Prowl could only remark at how good of a job they did at it.
"What are you two getting at?" Prowl questioned and Sunstreaker smirked, actually smirked and it was something that Prowl wished he didn't see. Jazz apparently had competition in the creepy factor.
"What we're saying is that you let us in the brig with that mech. We'll teach him a few things." Sunstreaker hummed and Prowl wanted nothing more than to side step away from the two but unfortunately he was boxed in.
"He won't bug you after that. Fact, he'll probably tell you all his Deceptiscum secrets." Sideswipe piped in and Prowl looked between the two. He was honestly lost at what to say. Sunstreaker got closer.
"All you'd have to do is type in the code and suddenly get distracted and we'll take over." Sideswipe mirrored his brothers movement and Prowl stopped them by lifting his arms and stepping back, giving himself some space to breathe and think.
"I appreciate the offer Sideswipe, Sunstreaker." This Prowl meant even though he didn't understand what had brought this about. "but that is not the Autobot ways. I, nor Optimus, for that matter would condone the act of torture as a means of gaining information." Both of them deflated slightly and Sideswipe gave a chuckle, slapping Prowl on his shoulder as he walked past him. Sunstreaker did the same without the physical contact.
"You're no fun." Sideswipe grunted. "but the offer still stands if that mech does anything. Any mech for that matter. We got your back." He offered as the two of them disappeared around the corner that Prowl had just emerged from. He frowned and visibly cocked his head to the side.
Prowl remained like that for a good moment, going over the events in his head over and over again and upon finding no logical explanation, dropped all thought process. He sighed before returning his course, back to the brig where more madness was surely waiting for him.
….
"Wha'd up Prowler!" Jazz hollered from his position, spread out on the floor. Prowl cocked an optic ridge as he took in the relaxed form of the spy, leaning back on his arms with his legs sprawled out in front of him just before the bars.
"I believe you are turning the entire Autobot base into a nuthouse." He utter as a lame form of a greeting, taking a moment to set up his desk before handing Jazz his ration.
"Nah." Jazz answered and Prowl looked at him only to be greeted by a cheeky, lopsided grin. "ahm turning it into a party!"
"You would find an asylum a party." Prowl grunted as he sat down and Jazz actually stared at Prowl before laughing loudly.
"Careful mech. Yer humor's showin. Bots are gonna think you have a spark in that cold chassis of yers." Jazz prodded and Prowl made a noncommittal hum as he pulled up a data pad and began working.
"Tha'd all you do, Prowler? Sit behind a desk?" Jazz asked.
"Most of my duties consist around my office, yes." He answered and the spy groaned. "I am a tactician after all." He informed Jazz.
"Mech… you're gonna bore meh to death before your prime ever gets a chance to meet meh." He huffed and Prowl merely raised an optic ridge without even really acknowledging the statement.
"I doubt you would die that easy." He retorted.
"Nice ta know ya think so highly of meh." Jazz added before huffing. "Will ya at least acknowledge my existence this time? I don like being ignored." Jazz changed and Prowl looked up at Jazz.
"Hmmm. I don't think I quite understand your personality Jazz. You're position in the Decepticons requires solitude. Our Intel states that most Decepticons avoid a social structure on a personal level. Yet you obviously crave the interaction." He asked and watched as Jazz looked down, playing with and unseen speck of dust underneath a talon, seemingly drawing an invisible line. His visor dimmed before he looked up suddenly losing all nostalgia. He shrugged, a careless, graceful movement.
"What can ah say." He purred. "Walking contradiction here." He replied and Prowl knew he wasn't going to get an actual informative response so he hummed in response, turning back to his work. Jazz seemed content to watch him and though Jazz gaze was unwavering Prowl found himself used to the stare that to others might have been unnerving.
"Prowler?" Jazz began and the addressed mech turned his attention back to the saboteur. "What were you before the war?" He asked.
"That is an odd question." Prowl intoned.
"Ahm curious." Prowl paused and upon finding no immediate risk decided to indulge Jazz's never ending curiosity.
"I was an enforcer." This earned a snorted chuckle from Jazz and Prowl wasn't entirely sure what he found humorous. His face must have showed his irritation because Jazz waved a hand, almost apologetically.
"Ah wasn't laughin' at you mech. It's just… It's so you. You scream enforcer. Big bad copper." He snorted again. "Mech, even your designation." Prowl frowned.
"I don't know if you are insulting me." He stated with his usual stoic tone and Jazz tilted his head to the side a rather charming grin slapped on his features.
"Trust me mah mech. If ah was insulting you, ya'd know." Prowl grunted, not sure whether or to believe the black and white spy.
"What were you before the war?" Prowl redirected, not really expecting him to get an honest answer. Jazz gave a rumbling laugh as he tossed his head back in contemplation.
"Mech…" He hummed. "Ah was whatever ah wanted to be." Prowl raised an optic ridge. "ah was a drifter. Went where ah wanted. Musician, performer, thief, mercenary. I've done it all."
"I can imagine that being a rather difficult life." Prowl commented and Jazz's grin turned rather thoughtful.
"mmm. T'was. But Prowler ah was free! Ah answered to nobot. Saw places that mechs could only dream of. Free mech. Just me and the open road. When was the last time ya ever felt free, Prowler?" Jazz redirected and the question stumped Prowl. When had he ever felt free? What sort of question was that? He paused and the very logic center of his brain struggled to produce and answer. He opened his mouth to respond and felt foolish when he had nothing to say.
Jazz waited and for once he himself had no teasing remarks. He just watched as Prowl stood slightly straighter, seemingly coming up with an answer, his com buzzed to life with a rather frantic sounding Red Alert.
"Prowl, you're needed immediately. We have a situation." Prowl frowned and Jazz suddenly looked very intrigued as if he had heard the private communication.
"What sort of situation?" He asked feeling relieved at the sudden distraction.
"We have Decepticons attacking our northern energon stores." Prowl frowned and stood.
"Assemble the officers and prepare a briefing. I want numbers. We absolutely cannot afford to lose that to Megatron." Prowl commanded and he made his way to the door but stopped, turning to Jazz who had at some point made it to his feet. His expression was almost as stoic as Prowls, giving away nothing that could have been useful. Prowl studied the mech, debating if he should be placed in a form of stasis lock. Jazz gave him a cheeky flash of his visor and a smirk.
"Ah wouldn' recommend that." Jazz purred. "You'd regret losing a medic." He calmly stated as if he could read Prowl's very thoughts. Jazz was unfortunately correct. The only medic that might stand a chance against Jazz would have been Ratchet and he was to be attending the briefing.
"Then don't force me to go to such measures." Prowl threatened and the look that crossed the spy's face was equally as challenging before he seemed to relax.
"Chill mech." He eased with a playful flick of his hand. "Go do your job, Prowler. I promise I won't kill, dismember, or maim any Autobots while you're out being a glorified computer."
"I would appreciate that." He responded choosing to ignore the computer comment. Jazz grinned and shooed Prowl away with his hands. The tactician turned and exited the brig. Jazz watched him, and slowly his easy going grin morphed into a malicious grin. He chuckled.
"But ah never said ah'd behave."
….
"While we're having this stupid meeting, those no good cons are getting away with our energon." Ironhide growled the second Prowl entered the room. The others remained silent as the tactician and second in command didn't respond at first and instead remained all calm and stoic. He walked to the direct center of the room where all optics were trained on him. This only seemed to irritate Ironhide more. "We're wasting time. Let's deploy some mechs." He continued to growl and Prowl turned his back to the red mech to study the screen.
"The likelihood of failure while going about this blind rises substantially. It would be illogical for us to take such risks." He threw over his shoulder before turning to Red Alert. "Is this all the information you were able to obtain?" The mech nodded.
"Yes. Mirage has some of his mechs near the area. We should have more accurate information popping up very soon.
"Any fliers?" Prowl asked.
"So far no, sir." He answered and Ratchet grunted.
"Doesn't mean there won't be. Depends on how much Megatron wants that energon." Prowl nodded to the medic.
"Still attacking our Northern stores? That seems a bit risky. I mean… even for Megatron." Bluestreak added from somewhere in the back.
"Agreed. There might be an underlying agenda here. I wouldn't put it past Megatron to want to divide our resources. Use the attack as a sort of distraction." Prowl retorted, studying as the numbers on the screen changed. It looked as if Mirage's mechs came through.
"That no good Decepticon!" Ratchet all but snarled and Prowl turned his attention to him. "That spy must told Megatron that Optimus is otherwise engaged."
"Not quite. The brig would have canceled any and all outside transmissions. I believe Megatron has had suspicions of our Prime's absence. He's just now acting upon it." Prowl paused as he turned back to the data. He rubbed under his chin with one finger before nodding to himself.
"Prepare thirty percent of your mechs for departure immediately, Ironhide."
"Only thirty?" He questioned.
"Yes. I want the rest to be patrolling here. Our outer quadrants. The threat level for an attack while we are gone has risen substantially. Make this clear to the patrol units." Prowl directed this at Red Alert.
"Yes Sir."
"Get the twins as well. I want them with us." Ironhide snorted at Prowl.
"You really want those twin menaces with you? Bunch of loose cannons if you will."
"I believe they will provide enough of a tactical advantage especially if we have issue with any fliers. If we handle this with the utmost precision we will succeed." At that he looked every mech in the optic. "Dismissed." Prowl finished gaining a chorus of 'Yes sirs', as they filed out of the room.
….
"You know…" Bumblebee began standing in a completely empty hallway with his fists planted firmly on his hips as he stared up into the support beams. "I don't think you're supposed to be up there." He continued with a rather puzzled expression on his face. Jazz chuckled from his perch on one of the rafters, as he sat or rather lounged in a position that seemed to deny the flexibility of basic Cybertronian anatomy.
"Nope." He agreed with a cheeky smirk that curled and practically took up most of his facial plates. Bumblebee quirked an optic ridge at this.
"Prowl probably isn't going to be too pleased about this." He added and Jazz's grin grew.
"Nope."
"And I take it you're not going to go back into the brig without a fight?" He tried with a pleading grin and Jazz just snorted.
"Mech… ya realize how lonely it gets in there?" He explained and instead of forcing the matter Bumblebee only nodded slowly. Irritating Jazz when he was alone with the mech, wasn't the best idea, for anyone.
"You do realize Red Alert is just going to crash when he finds out you aren't in the brig anymore." The grin that greeted Bumblebee was answer enough.
"That mech freaks at his own shadow. Nothin' knew." Jazz returned and Bee had to hand it to the spy. He had the security director down. So giving a knowing shake of his head Bumblebee gave a snort as he lifted his hand to his chest.
"Now. I really don't want to know this." He began with a biding humor lacing his tone. "but with all of your free time what exactly have you been up to? Am I going to have to send out a search party for some unfortunate mech or sound the alarm for a bomb?" Jazz threw his head back and chuckle as he stepped away from the yellow mech, throwing his arms out the side and lowering his head. The look that crossed his features was clearly mischievous.
"Who meh?" After this he placed his clawed hands right above his spark. "Ya wound me Bee. Right here. Mah spark, mech." He dramatized and Bumblebee put a hand on his hip.
"What spark?"
"You cruel Bee." He chuckled, standing from his dramatics and waving a hand at his chassis. "It's there. Just small." He purred, winking by dimming the light on one side of his visor. Not amused Bumblebee rolled his optics which caused Jazz to huff loudly in mock offense.
"But ya don't have to worry none. I promised Prowler that I wouldn't maim or kill no mechs and as far as I know, bombs do that." Jazz continued, taking a moment to look at his arm and pick an unseen fleck of dirt. Bumblebee didn't say anything but instead stated at Jazz as if he was looking at a ghost. Jazz met his optics and his lips disappeared into a thin line to show his irritation. "Wha?" He growled and the yellow mech remained utterly surprised.
"I don't believe it." Jazz took offense to this.
" 'm a mech of my word." He stated in a low rumbling hiss. To placate the spy Bumblebee held up his hands again to his chest.
"Not doubting that. Just… you know, surprised that you promised Prowl that. Our Prowl. You know. Stick up his tailpipe Prowl."
"He ain't that bad." Now Jazz gave a particularly wicked grin. "Fun ta torment." With that Jazz took a few steps and seemingly to a song that only the mech could hear took a few gracefully skip steps and turned, bobbing his head to the unheard beat. He gave a crooked grin and in step still the silent music, rotated his body in a motion that defied Cybertronian anatomy and pointed a sharp claw at Bumblebee.
"So tell meh, Bee. Whatcha up to?" He asked and the yellow mech shrugged.
"Well… I guess I was planning to head to the rec room, grab a cube and chat with a few of my friends but since you're he-" He began but Jazz interrupted him with a pleased clap.
"Sounds like a plan! Let's go. Ahm starved." He cheered and it literally took Bee a moment to comprehend what the black and white mech had said. He cycled his optics and watched as Jazz practically sauntered in the general direction of where the rec room was located.
"Hey…" He stated trotting to catch up with the determined mech, trying to stop him before he reached the door that was just around the corner. Jazz threw him a look of his shoulder, still cocky grin in place. "Let's not do that ya? Not a good idea. Prowl would not be pleased with me if I got you shot." The spy laughed.
"Chill mech." He placated, flickering his visor. "Trust meh. I'm smooth. Just gonna grab a cube and chat with the locals." And oddly enough, against all of his reason Bumblebee nodded. Jazz didn't live as long as did by pure luck. He knew what he was doing or at least Bee hoped he did because reasoning with him was out of the question.
Jazz was all smiles as he opened the door by pressing the panel, holding it and letting Bee go first with a flourished hand flick. Bumblebee moved forward and his entire frame was tense, waiting for the chaos that Jazz was sure to bring. A few mechs greeted Bee, which he returned with his casual wave and friendly smile barely able to hide the downright pulsing terror that was flickering through his spark.
He made it exactly halfway into the rec room, his optics locked on the energon dispenser when a soft rolling laugh escaped Jazz. Bee turned his head to the mech that was beside him and he waved his claws.
"Chill mech." He soothed. "Mechs don notice what's right in front of their optics." Bee blinked as he reached the dispenser and collected his cube. Jazz was still all casual, not even trying to hide. By all appearances he looked as if he belonged here. Red visor and all. Jazz just fit.
Jazz retrieved his cube and Bumblebee turned, and his intentions of just walking out were stopped as Blaster waved him over from across the room, pulling out a seat. He looked at the table and the only other mech was Hound. Feeling trapped he approached and Jazz still followed.
"Whats up, little buddy!" Blaster greeted as the duo approached, and hound even subconsciously scooted to the side to allow Jazz room to pull out a chair and sit next to Bee. Jazz grinned as he took his spot, leaning back in his chair and looping an arm around the back rest, crossing one leg over the other.
"Not gonna introduce us, Bee?" Blaster stated, turning his optics to look at the newcomer. He was all friendly vibes as his blue optics just glanced over Jazz. "Who's your friend?" He began and suddenly the air at the table changed from friendly to pure shock as revelation practically slapped Blaster in the face. He cycled his optics several times before his hand was reaching for his weapon. Hound followed and Jazz found himself with two deadly weapons pointed at his face.
The only thing that moved on Jazz was his lips he quirked a deadly grin that was all teeth. He chuckled and it sounding by far deadlier than anything he could have possibly said.
"Not the smartest move, con." Blaster growl lowly and Jazz's lips split further as he moved a single hand slowly, grabbing his cube and bringing the itto his lips.