Author: gatekat
Chars: Jazz/Prowl
Rating: PG-13
Codes: AU, Slash, Canon dead
Summary: A skim over the next vorn in New Crystal City
Notes: klik = 1 minute; joor = 1.2 hours; orn = day/32 joor; metacycle = 6 years; vorn = 83 years
This Winter Won't Last Forever 11
2.4 metacycles - Prowl
Optimus Prime has been alive for over two metacycles and no hint that he wishes contact with any of the Autobots, former or active, living in New Crystal City.
I am not sure if I am pleased or disappointed, though I am relieved beyond any reason. It means that he has let me go. He will not order me to return. He will not order me to resume the treatments that extend my functioning. That could change any orn, but it is unlikely he will summon me if he has not already.
5.9 metacycles
"Prowl," the femme who's been the most against me in the unit, calls me to remain as our shift ends.
I do not like her and she dislikes me, however I have not allowed it to impact my efficiency. I have dealt with far more difficult that her in my functioning. Those who are important, those who rank us both, approve of my presence and efforts on their behalf.
"Yes, Sunbeam?" I turn to face her impassively and hide the surprise at her uncertain expression.
"Peace?" she offers her hand and the small package in it. "Umm, it's kinda been slipped that you and Jazz are saving up to have your frames rebuilt. I, umm, organized a donation pool to help with it."
"There was no need." I can't help but say. Dimly, I realize she means it as an apology, a peace offering to the wronged party. Likely something her own coding, or perhaps this society, expects of her.
Accept it. She's not a Con.
There are orn I wonder just how much extra code Jazz has slipped into me over the vorns. He's good enough, I expect, to do so without my notice.
I take the offered datachip and slip it into my arm slot. The information that scrolls up indicates she has done far more than collected a few credits. The full cost has been covered for both of us, my time scheduled off, confirmation that Jazz has no engagements and the procedures have been confirmed by those doing the work. It is even the specialist that Jazz selected to do his work; the best the city has to offer. Jazz must have at least an idea this was doing to happen.
"I thank you," I hear myself murmured, sure my shock is clear in my doorwings and features.
She shifts uncomfortably before me and I wonder what prompted this. She reminds me far too much of when Optimus demanded Sideswipe apologize to me. He knew that if I did not believe his sincerity, he would face Prime's wrath. What does she face if I do not accept?
I do not desire to find out.
"Sunbeam, thank you," I make sure my voice is firm, very close to what Jazz likes to call my SIC voice, and know I have calculated the needed response correctly when she relaxes. "Does Jazz know?"
"Some of it," she nods with a shy smile. "I needed to know a few things to make the arrangements."
A few orns later - Prowl
"What do you think?" Sirenis' smile could light up a city as he turns around in front of me.
He's still a white mech with black, blue and red highlighting his frame and a visor, though there is much more blue and his visor now matches his original optic color of emerald green. I recognize his face, somewhat, but the rest of his frame ... it's all sweeps and angles, a form of elegance, grace and most definitely not for war. He is a dancer now.
Even with his new appearance I see what it does not show. Like my design, he still has some armor, his advanced hydraulics and several hidden weapons beyond those he displays openly in his performances.
But to answer his question, I find myself thinking about what he actually wants to know from me.
"You are beautiful," my own voice sounds odd, the inflection much stronger than I intended, but he beams even brighter and those who did the work looked very pleased by my response as well.
He moves close, every motion pure seductive grace like I've rarely seen him employ. My vents hitch as his fingers, now far more slender, cup my face.
"They say I'm good to go," he purrs in what is still very clearly Jazz's voice, his mouth nearly touching mine. "How about we spend the rest of the orn exploring how this chassis responds?"
I'm sure I nod, but I barely register anything past the touch of his lips on mine.
The next orn - Sirenis
"Have you ever worked this extensively on a Praxian before?" Sirenis asked calmly, though everyone knew there was nothing calm about him despite appearances.
"No, however we have rebuilt fliers," the lead medic, Windsweep, answered smoothly, then regarded Sirenis carefully. "Do you wish to observe?" he asked, extending an unheard of courtesy.
Much of the nearly invisible tension drained away with a smile of thanks. "Thanks, my mech. I've watched every rebuild he's had, doesn't seem right to not be around for this one."
Windsweep smiled and put a hand on the shoulder he had crafted only a few orns earlier. "Stay out of the way and you may watch this one."
16 joors later - Windsweep
If these two aren't bonded, they should be. I swear to Primus I have never seen two mechs so protective of each other. They keep it as subtle as any Knight, but to anyone used to Knights, it's unsettling to feel how willing they are to commit violence for the other. Especially Sirenis. The mech still hasn't realized he no longer lives in a war zone. He was a killer before. He is still a killer, for all he pretends he has given it up.
"Just keep away and be still," Sirenis orders, and it is an order. I'll grant him that it's a good order. Anything with that many environmental sensors in their wings and combat protocols is likely to power up from reconstructive surgery in battle mode.
This mech is no different.
Systems hum to full power, directed at wide-range sensors first, then weapons, then mobility ... then higher processor functions. Exactly the way Dai Atlas powered up. Same way his creation did for that matter, though Wing hadn't been nearly as volatile under any conditions.
"Hay, Prowl," Sirenis was the first to step close, no doubt far more attuned to his companion's systems than any of us. "How'ya feeling?"
There is a longer-than expected pause, though Prowl's optics are at full power and locked on his companion.
"Acceptable," he eventually answers. "It is ... disconcerting ... to have so little armor."
A huge smile crosses Sirenis' face as he pulls Prowl to a sitting position and presses close for a kiss intimate enough that I look away. I can hear hands explore the new form I've given his lover.
"I know, Prowler," Sirenis purred softly, his engine revving sharply in despite. "You'll get used to it, and you look amazing."
"That not why..."
A long, intimate kiss stops the statement and a reset my vocalizer noisily, hoping to separate them long enough clear Prowl to leave so they continue in their quarters and not my work bay.
"Later, Jazz," I hear Prowl murmur as he gently pushes the other away and turns his now elegantly swept helm to look at me. "All my systems are active and report fully functional."
He may look like he's from New Crystal City now, but unlike Sirenis, he'll never speak like he is. That Autobot-Iacon accent is distinctive here.
"That is good," I smile and step forward, still well aware of his companion's location and state of readiness. Trust clearly does not come easily for either of them, but especially not for Sirenis. The scans are routine, simple, and all come back positive for his release. I can't help but wonder which of us is more relieved when I usher them out, extracting promises to return if anything is amiss.