Charming

Character(s)/Pairing(s): Lockdown, Prowl (future Prowl/Lockdown if you squint)
Timeline: Pre-War

Charming, as in "Prince Charming" (or "Knight in Shining Armour", if you could ever call Lockdown that XD).
This one's a bit longer than usual. It was one of those drabbles that really wanted to be a complete oneshot, so I'm sorry if the ending feels a bit sudden. I was wondering how someone like Prowl would meet a shady character like Lockdown in this universe, therefore, drabble time.

Please review! As ever, prompts are welcome but will only be used if they give me inspiration or ideas.

He'd taken a wrong turn, somewhere.

Prowl checked his chronometer. Almost a cycle late! And still, he had no idea where he was. Somehow he'd found himself on the rough side of Iacon, with no GPS reception to speak of. The young Autobot had tried (and failed) to get directions from a number of shady looking mechs, all of whom either ignored him or swore violently in his face. He cycled a sigh through his vents, trying to get a signal on his comm.-link, but still, nothing. Jazz would be worried by now, surely - Prowl made a point of never being late. There was nothing for it; he turned into a side street and entered the first bar he saw, hoping for directions -

- and crashed right into a very large mech, holding a drink. In horrified silence, Prowl saw the shattered energon cube on the ground. The mismatched body parts. The hook, spikes and studs. And looming above him, the white, smirking face.

"Well, well," the mech rumbled, clearly amused. "What's a pretty li'l thing like you doin' in a dump like this?"

Prowl spluttered and stuttered, instinctively taking a step backwards. "I…I-I'm sorry about your energon!" he burst out, grasping onto the first coherent thought his processor spat out. "I'll buy you a new one!"

The tall mech barked with laughter, and somewhere inside him, Prowl felt circuits overheating with embarrassment. "Don't you worry about that, kid," chuckled the jigsaw mech. The white Autobot flinched, horrified, as he clapped him on the shoulder with an oversized black claw. "Name's Lockdown."

"P-Prowl," he replied, belatedly realizing that this 'Lockdown' was the first person to show some semblance of friendliness in this part of Iacon. "I…I'm lost."

"I can see that, darlin'," drawled Lockdown, pushing him back outside the bar, and Prowl stiffened at the endearment. "Now where're you s'posed to be?"

"Iacon, sector three, district two," Prowl recited hopefully.

Lockdown laughed all the harder. "Primus only knows how you ended up in sector ten," he chortled, walking away, and for a moment Prowl feared he would be left to find his own way again. Then the lanky mech peered over his broad, spiked shoulder, and grinned. "C'mon, kid. You stick with me an' I'll getcha outta here."

As it turned out, Prowl stuck with Lockdown an awful lot longer than the time it took to travel from sector ten to three.