Author's Note: Once again, I'm sorry about the wait. Thank you to the reads and reviews! And Meg's observation about Jazz's alt mode is something that I've noticed as well. It made me rethink what exactly was a Jazz worthy alt mode.Jazz, stop touching the radio," Meg snapped, glaring at her faux passenger. The hand flew back into his lap while a deceptively smooth smile swept over Jazz's features. Meg's eyes flickered from the road to fixate Jazz with a glare before returning to her task of driving. The black tar stretched out in front of them, its twists and turns carved into the high seaside cliffs with the shimmering ocean reaching out to the hazy horizon in the west. For the most part the road was clear except for the occasional driver driving by in their rich weekend convertible. More amusing than watching the flashy cars quickly cruise by them were the mini vans packed with a full blown family; the dad trying to concentrate as he drove while the mom was twisted around in her seat to resolve some quarrel between the bickering kids in the back seat; luggage filled the very back of the van to the point that it was squished against the windows.
Jazz watched these vehicles pass them with rapt attention, his optics examining them from behind the hologram's eyes. Meg would easily pass them on the four lane highway. Jazz would watch the mini vans disappear behind them in the side mirror with his smile bordering on a smirk. Before she could ask, Jazz explained what was running through his thoughts.
"For some reason those vehicles remind me of our journey here on the Ark." Meg spared him a glance, a curious smile on her lips. With the air conditioning still blowing, she rolled her window down and stuck her left arm out so that the crook of her elbow rested on the sill.
"Why is that?"
"The bickerin'," Jazz laughed, his gaze briefly looking into the side mirror even though the van was well out of sight. Bumblebee, who was trailing them out of eyesight, would probably be passing the van soon and thinking along the same lines that Jazz was.
"Between you and Bumblebee?" Meg guessed. Jazz laughed outright.
"Naw, between Ironhide an' Ratchet. You know that sitcom you watched all the time? Everybody Loves Rayburn?"
"Everybody Loves Raymond," Meg corrected with a smirk. Jazz rolled down his window and made a dismissive gesture with his hand before he stuck it out into the cool salty air the car was gushing through.
"Yeah, that. Well, those two are like Marie an' Frank." Meg let out a carefree laugh.
"So they're like an old married couple?"
"If all old human couples are like those characters, then yeah." For a moment Jazz paused, reminiscing. "You shoulda seen how fragged off Ratchet was when Ironhide blew up that planet."
Meg was speechless as she blatantly stared at Jazz with raised eyebrows and wide eyes.
"…a planet? You mean a moon or something…right?" Jazz gently pushed Meg's face so that she was looking at the road again but her eyes kept flickering over to him.
"Nope a full blown planet..ooh bad play on words there."
"A small planet?" Meg ventured hopefully, her awe completely overriding the bad pun.
"Uh, about the size of Pluto," Jazz responded somewhat absentmindedly as he stretched his arm out into the wind, pushing his arm against the force of the rushing air.
"Technically, that's not a planet anymore," the girl said as she rolled her eyes.
"Tsh, if you humans started puttin' more thought into explorin' the planets of your solar system rather than categorizin' them, you'd be a lot further with space travel," the Autobot stated in a slightly patronizing kind of way. Meg shot him a glance that showed that she didn't appreciate it but then again she knew that the robot who had an alternate form specifically for space travel was without a doubt ahead of the space travel curve.
"So what's it like out there? In space?" For a moment Jazz hesitated. The Autobots knew that space travel had always been a goal that the humans strived for and despite their primitive spacecraft, they were doing pretty fragging well for themselves. But the truth of it was, was that while space was a frontier with unimaginable beauty, it was also fraught with peril. The loneliness that beings suffered out there was more than enough to push one over the edge…figuratively and literally. Not to mention that if the humans had trouble keeping peace on their own planet, adding other planets' politics would not be the best thing for the young species.
"I've seen a lot of amazin' things but…we were travelin' a long time. That long in space with only four others to keep ya company, and then eventually just three since Bee was lookin' for Sam for four years, it can get pretty lonely," Jazz said with a shrug. He was somber for a moment before smiling.
"But damn it was entertainin' at times. Like when Optimus had to rescue Bumblebee from those giant cavernous worms, when Ironhide annoyed Ratchet to the point that Ratchet knocked out ol' Hide and disabled his cannons, or when I got bored that one time and hacked into the Ark's PA system and played the matin' ritual songs from this primitive planet I came across on a Special Ops mission way back when. I didn't get monitor duty for a while after that one which was an added bonus."
"Wow, if I didn't know any better I would say that all of you are just a bunch of teenagers…especially you," Meg said with a playful glint in her eyes.
"You've spent how long with the twins?" Jazz said, barely fighting back a smirk.
"Ha ha, very funny. Okay, I didn't know that all of you were like those two." Jazz recoiled and grimaced.
"If you value your life, I would never repeat that."
"You can't harm us," Meg cooed.
"If you say somethin' like that, we can make an exception."
"Somebody's in denial," Meg practically sang.
Jazz went to go off on a rant but the girl made a fast lane change, sending him against the window. He muttered a low and sarcastic 'thanks'. The girl just smirked and kept her eyes on the road. Suddenly, the radio's volume shot up as it changed stations to a head bursting rock station. The rental car's stereos began shaking and were minutes from blowing out.
"Jazz!" the girl cried out. The culprit raised his hands passively up as if to show his innocence. That façade couldn't be further from the truth and he knew it.
"You said not to touch the radio," Jazz yelled over the sound of the blaring music.
"Well, I meant mentally, technologically or…whatever."
"How can you touch mentally or technologically-"
"I don't know!"
Suddenly the music paused a moment as Dane Cook proclaimed "Google that shit" before switching to a bass thrumming rap beat. Revenge was easily found as the girl got off the highway faster than needed and came to a screeching halt at the stop light at the bottom of the off ramp. The seatbelt caught Meg but Jazz wasn't so lucky.
"Should have worn your seatbelt," she smugly chastised, not letting on to the distinct feeling of a bruise coming up across her chest. Jazz glared at her as he pulled himself back into the seat. Meg's eyes went wide as she saw the gaping holes in the faux leather dashboard in front of the passenger's eat where the airbag should have come out from.
"I really hope they got insurance for this thing," the girl mumbled. Jazz narrowed his eyes; his unspoken question of what 'insurance' was clear. Meg couldn't help herself.
"Google that shit."
Jazz ignored the quip as he stared at the damage. All he knew was that he had destroyed something and it didn't matter what planet he was from, he knew that destruction was a bad thing despite what Ironhide says.
"That's…not good," Meg slowly stated as she really looked at the dashboard.
"No shit," Jazz mumbled to himself in an affirmative sigh.
An impatient horn sounded from behind them. Her attention on the road regained, Meg accelerated as she took a left turn. As she drove, she pulled her 'pay as you go' cell phone out of the cup holder and handed it to Jazz.
"Dial 4-1-1 and then hit send," Meg calmly explained before adding, "There's a new law that says I can't talk on a hand-held cell phone while I'm driving so you have to call." Jazz took the cell phone from her and carefully did as he was told, being more careful than necessary as to not cause any more damage. He never thought that being strong would ever prove to be a problem. As a mech his strength had always been his saving grace.
"Who am I calling?"
"Tell the operator that we're in Santa Barbara and we're looking for an Enterprise Rent-a-Car…don't tell her why."
"I guess we can add this to the Why the American Government Wants to Dismantle Us and Mash Us Into Tiny Little Pieces to Experiment On List," Jazz muttered as they walked out of the tiny suite of the strip mall. He and Meg were walking as fast as they could to get past the group of people staring at the damaged sedan that the pair had just turned in as it sat in front of the rental company's suite. Several of the bystanders turned around and watched them go by.
"That's one kinky ass couple," Jazz heard one man mutter to his buddy. "What I wouldn't do to hit up that girl." The Autobot froze in his tracks, his hologram's eyes blazing. He set his jaw and slowly turned around. Meg stood waiting at their next rental car/victim trying to figure out why Jazz was facing away from her. She didn't see the heart freezing glare the Autobot was sending the man as he slowly shook his head, ending with his head slightly tipped to the side. The man's Adam's apple visible bobbed as he gulped and took a step back. With one final glare, Jazz turned back to Meg in time place a smile on his face.
"Come on girl," Jazz said as he placed his hand on Meg's back, beckoning her into the driver's seat. One final glare was sent at the man as Jazz walked around the front of the car and got into the passenger's seat.
Meg pulled out of the parking space and drove out of the lot. Several minutes passed as they drove on to the road.
"You know, it's not going to make a good impression when the public finds out about you guys if you keep trying to shoot lasers out of your eyes every single time someone makes a stupid comment." Jazz scoffed.
"There's never been a mech capable of shooting lasers out of his optics." It took several long quiet moments to realize that Jazz was communicating with someone over his internal communications.
"What are you doing?" Meg asked incredulously.
"Trying to get Ratchet to upgrade my optics for a laser arsenal. Let's see if those horny squishies want to make any remarks now." Meg sputtered, trying to figure out if he was serious or not.
"You can't harm humans, remember?"
"They won't know that," Jazz said as he looked at Meg with his head tipped while he flashed a crooked smile.
The house was quaint, resembling a typical home built in the 60's rather than the modern towering behemoths on either side of it. The faded white paint was chipping away in some places and several of the potted plants lining the flagstone path had no hopes of resurrection. Meg pulled up to the house and busied herself with getting her army issued duffel bag from the backseat while Jazz slowly pulled himself out of the car, focus riveted on the house in front of him.
By the time Meg got her meager borrowed belongings from the car, she stood watching Jazz with a bemused expression. Slowly, he walked the pathway, his eyes cast down at the flagstones framed with green, spongy moss. When he saw the purpose of the stones and that he could actually walked on the moss without destroying the minute vegetation, his attention focus one the myriad of various ceramic pots brimming with mostly green plants. Kneeling down beside a fern, he examined it and gently touched the water-filled tube that automatically watered the plant.
Looking at the house, Jazz's optics danced to the wind chimes and other decorations hanging from the eaves. A soft sea breeze blew by and demonstrated the gentle music of the chimes and how the other decorations would spin, spiral, and dance.
"The neighborhood kids know my grandma as the 'gypsy lady' because her house reminds them of the gypsies in movies," Meg said from behind.
"The house is certainly…eccentric," Jazz murmured.
"And the adults say that about Grams and Gramps," Meg laughed.
In truth, Jazz had never seen anything like the tiny little beach house. Every civilization he had ever visited had either been far more primitive or far more advanced than the humans. His own civilization was so centered around order and consistency that he knew of no one who would have created something like the house. The whole thing was so jumbled yet there was a hint of an order to it. Organized chaos, the humans called it. Before he hadn't understood the term but now he not only understood it…he loved it.
Meg lightly touched him at the elbow, her fingertips passing through the hologram to the warm metal below. Jazz looked at the smiling girl slightly behind him and she nodded for him to move forward.
Arriving at the door, Jazz looked up at the wrinkled pepper tree that offered a vast amount of shade while Meg opened a well hidden panel beside the door to reveal the spare key inside. Unlocking the door and then shoving it open, she walked right in to dump her load on the ancient easy chair while Jazz remained at the door examining the large oval of glass that had a porpoising dolphin etched into it.
"What's that?" Jazz asked as he came inside and pointed to the glass etching behind him.
"A dolphin," Meg explained while she opened the bag. "It's a sea mammal. You might see some while we're here."
Jazz cast one last glance at the etched glass before walking through the cozy living room/dining room combo to the large French doors on the other side. He pulled away the gossamer curtain to peek out at the overcast beach outside. Meg came up from behind him and unlocked the double French doors to pull them open. Both Meg and Jazz walked out on to the vast deck to see the beach as the ocean lapped up on to the shifting sand fifty yards from the house. Jazz crossed his arms over his chest and seemed content to stand at the top of the short staircase, staring at the enormous ocean.
Sensing that it was best to let Jazz ponder to himself, Meg lingered on the deck to use the supplies stored in a wooden box to light up the fire pit in the center of the deck. For a moment she sat on the benches built into the deck railing, making sure that Jazz would be okay. She had no idea what would happen if the sand got into Jazz's joints or if all of the salt in the air would affect him. Would he rust in the short time they were there? Would she have to carry around some oil to lubricate him whenever he froze up like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz. That idea froze her in place, stopping it from taking her teenaged mind to places she didn't want to go.
Finally going back inside, Meg dragged her duffel to the guest bedroom and threw it on to the bed. There were few things in the actual bag since it was a hodge-podge of borrowed items and very few items were brand new. Sometime during Jazz's convalescence, Mikaela had gone to the mall and had been kind enough to buy Meg some clothes. It had put the other teenaged girl in a whole new light for Meg, especially since Mikaela had no idea about the trip to Santa Barbara.
With her meager belongings in their respective places, Meg drifted out of the room and into the main room. She had been planning on going into the kitchen to see if she needed to make a trip to the grocery store but she stopped short when she saw Jazz sprawled out on the coach. Lowering herself down so that she was sitting on her ankles, Meg worriedly examined Jazz. His hologram was no longer in place and his optics were dim. If it wasn't for the soft whir beneath his armor, she would have guessed he was dead. The only thing she could think of was that he was…sleeping.
At first she wasn't going to wake him up but then if she was wrong about the sleeping thing than she would have to answer to the other Autobots, mainly Ratchet, and that was not something she wanted to do.
"Jazz," she whispered as she nudged him. She had no idea how to 'wake up' an Autobot and even less of an idea on whether or not he would freak out once he did wake up. Extending her index finger, she slowly moved it forward and poked him on the arm. The hand that belonged to that metallic arm snapped out, grabbed Meg around the waist and pulled her down onto the couch. The girl found herself laying on her back with Jazz practically on top of her.
"Uh, Jazz?" The only response was a static filled response. "Jazz, stop groping me."
"Sleepin'," was all that she was able to discern from the static. Meg gave up and began working herself out from under him. That is until she saw Jazz's optics momentarily flicker on-line. When he saw that she noticed his optics immediately shuttered back closed.
"Jazz, I really have stuff to do."
"Sleepin'. Comfy," came the grumbled static. Meg sighed and patted the feigning sleeper's head which rested on her chest.
"That's nice, now let me up." No longer concerned that he was okay, Meg squirmed her way out from under the mech. She sat up beside him but had a bit of hesitancy about getting up. He was sleeping and she wasn't exactly sure if that was normal for him.
"Are you okay?" Turning on his back so that he could see her better, his optics brightened a bit.
"The hologram takes a lot outta me an' I don't have a lotta energy reserves in this form." Meg pursed her lips and squeezed one of the support structures that made up Jazz's arm.
"Let me know if you want anything, okay?" The only response she got was a nod as he began shutting his systems to hibernate. With the knowledge that Jazz was indeed going to survive, Meg pulled herself from the couch. Making her way to the kitchen, Meg wondered if Jazz was capable of smelling the musty old people scent on the ancient sofa.
Jazz groaned as he pulled himself from his precarious position on the couch. The house was strangely quiet and somewhat darker. He didn't need to look at the green electronic time display on the primitive electronics equipment sitting beneath the equally ancient television set. He hung his cranium as he tried to get his bearings. It would take a while to get used to this body and by that time he would be returning to his upgraded shell. Some things just sucked. Jazz was used to having to constantly adapt but even this was starting to try him.
Pulling himself up from his face plant on the sofa, his attention focused on Meg. It took a moment for his systems to become reacquainted since he had off-lined his olfactory senses. One could only take so much of that disgusting scent that plagued that sofa. Jazz couldn't sense Meg nearby and the basic scanners that Ratchet had mercifully bestowed upon him couldn't find her within the house. While he knew that he would have instantly known if any Decepticons had been nearby, he was curious to know where she had gotten off to. After all, he still considered himself her protector; size didn't matter as long as the job was done. If Jazz had wanted to piss Meg off he would have used the term 'babysitter' but he would rather not return to Ratchet with even more damages.
Wandering out to the deck, Jazz minutely noticed the burning coals in the fire pit as he walked past. A quick scan told him that there were no humans around so he didn't even bother activating his hologram. It would only drain more energy and with no energon close by and the marine layer hiding the sun's energetic light, the Autobot really didn't feel like wasting his energy on something so unnecessary. Besides, he really didn't like the idea of him having to take 'naps'.
It didn't take long to find Meg. In fact, as soon as Jazz walked out of the deck's gate, he could see her sitting directly in front of the house. He stood back, standing on the concrete sprinkled with sand. Crossing his arms, he looked at the girl's back, her hair dancing in the sea breeze.
Meg sat in the warm sand as it began cooling off while the sun sank into the ocean. She stared out into the ocean without really seeing it, too engulfed into her thoughts to see the beauty in front of her. Her forearms were resting on her knees, her hands dangling while she tossed the cheap cell phone up and down absentmindedly. The waves chased after her and then hastily retreated to build up to resume the chase again.
Jazz quietly walked up behind her, immediately sensing that something was going on. She didn't respond as he squatted beside her, placing his five fingered hand on her back. Knowing how touch-oriented that humans were, he gently rubbed her back as he peered at her emotionless face. His cyan optics darted from her face to the tossing phone.
"What's up girlie?" he asked.
Meg stopped tossing the phone and looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. Jazz was completely taken aback by her change in moods. She had seemed perfectly fine on the ride up the coast albeit a little testy… Mentally Jazz smacked himself. He should have known by that tiny clue that something was up.
"I..I should really call my mom." Jazz frowned and gently squeezed her far shoulder, bidding her to continue. "I don't know what to say. I haven't talked to her since before the...attack. What do I say? Hey Mom, I miss you and guess what? I'm not dead, I didn't run away but I'm in a place far away and I can't tell you where, oh, and on top of it, I'm with a guy who you've never met and never will." There was a long pause and her head fell forward so far that her chin almost touched her chest. "I should have called her a long time ago but I was just too…scared. I can't do it."
The Autobot swiveled, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of the sand grating in the cracks between his armor, and brought himself so that he sat behind Meg. He pressed his chest against her back with his legs on either side of her. Gently he pried the cell phone from her pliable hand and sorted through his memory banks to find her home phone number. After dialing the phone, he held it up to Meg's ear. Ever so slowly, she replaced his metal hand and held up the phone to her own ear. As the other line rang, Jazz rested his chin on Meg's shoulder, opposite of the arm holding the phone up.
It seemed like there were five minutes in between each minute long ring. The girl was somewhere in between hyperventilating and not being able to breathe all together. After a five and a quarter rings, someone picked up.
"Hello?" answered the misplaced voice. Meg knew the voice but coldn't understand why Grady was answering htephone and wy he sonded like a grandfather rather han a kid her own age.
"Grady?" There was a long pause as Meg heard something scurry in the background. A loud bang was fallowed by a great bout of incoherent cursing.
"Meg?' Grady finally replied with a heart wrenching amount of desperate hope
"Yeah…what are you doing at my house? Where's Mom?"
"We, uh…me and Randy…we came to help around…the ranch."
"Oh," Meg whispered as a flood f guil washed over her. If it was possible, she slumped even more.
"I really need to talk to Mom-", before she could finish the statement, the phone had been passed over to Jeanne who apparently had been standing beside Grady the whole time.
"Are you okay?!" was the immediate question.
"I'm safe Mom. Are you okay?"
"Besides worrying myself to and early grave over you?" meg visibly winced and Jazz, easily able to hear the conversation, gave her an encouraging hug.
"Yeah, besides that."
Jeanne gave a resigned sight as she spoke.
"I'm getting through, hour by hour. The boys have been a huge help." At this point Meg was more alarme than ever before. There was no way a grieving mother could be this calm unless she was hopped up on a serious amount of meds.
"Honey, I need to be honest with you because I know you're beating yourself up about it and you know you can never keep a secret from me." Meg felt Jazz stiffen behin her and she would have turned to look at him if she wasn't striang so hard to hear.
"I know what…who…your car is" Meg's jaw dropped and Jazz groaned.
"I can't believe they told you," the teenaged girl practically shrieked.
"We kept our moths shut!" Randy yelled, having heard the exclamation.
"Marguerite, don't get that tone with me," Jeanne demanded as she shifted into her mom-mode. "I would have fully expected them to tell me what happened at the store." Jazz shifted and quietly muttered in a way to ensure that only Meg could hear.
"Something's not adding up." It took Mg a few moments to realize he was right. Meg voiced what she was thinking aloud, hoping that if she just spoke the thoughts that maybe her hammering heart wouldn't explode since it was really feeling like it was about to.
"If they didn't tell you…" The girl knew there would be complications from there being so many witnesses but she was hoping that denial would keep those problems at bay.
"Meg, I left you a note telling you that I would go grocery shopping because I needed you to run by the post office to pick up a package Grams had sent us. Obviously you didn't see the note."
So Jeanne had been there. She saw the whole attack and watched helplessly as Meg teetered on the verge of being killed. It was why Grady and Randy had kept her from going into the store, keeping her from seeing her most likely shocked mom.
"I'm surprised about the truth of the car but I knew something was going on. With Andrew 'winning' the car and giving it to you, I knew something was up. That boy hated sharing his things with you and he'd never share a sports car like that."
Jazz came dangerously close to gloating but the mech proved that he did in fact have some common sense by keeping his mouth shut. It also had to do with him debating if it would be possible to admit the woman on to his Special Ops team. Assuming that enough qualified Autobots showed up on Earth to make up a team. Either way, the woman was certainly qualified. Meg, on the other hand, couldn't get over her shock and awe enough to think very fast.
"Does Dad know?"
"No. Those agents who talked with everyone at the market. When they talked with me I asked that your dad remain in the dark. He wouldn't want to leave his boys and he's still in the middle of tracking another group of insurgents."
"Ignorance is bliss," Meg muttered as she rubbed her eyes. She hated the idea of lying to her father and she knew that it was the same for her mom but then again this wasn't exactly lying.
Wearily, Meg nodded her head and ran her hand over the side of her face.
"I'm sorry Mom…about all of this. I was just trying to do what was right. I just forgot to do what was right by you."
"Marguerite, I saw those robots fight to save us and how that one nearly died saving you. You did do right…by all of us." Meg couldn't believe what she was hearing. How could she be so lucky that her mom was actually okay with all that had happened? The only thing Meg could think of was that sometimes things are so…big that there's no way to react normally. There certainly was nothing normal about what had been going on in the girl's life ever since the first time she saw Jazz. Was this how Sam's parents reacted when they found out about Bumblebee?
"I love you Mommy," Meg whispered as tears started blurring her vision. Sniffling on the other end of the line told Meg that her mom wasn't even bothering holding back the tears.
"I love you too, baby girl. I'm so proud of you and I know everyone else is too."
"Bye Mama. And…thank you for being so…cool about this." Jeanne started laughing outright.
"Honey, I've had a lot of time to think about things and a lot of things to think about. It took me a while to realize that wherever you are, you want to be there, you have the ultimate bodyguards looking after you, and most importantly this robot friend of yours was there for you when your father and I wasn't after Andrew…passed. I'm not happy that you aren't here but, frankly, there isn't much that I can do about it."
There was no way that Meg could reply. All she could do was mutter how much she loved her mom. Finally Jazz gently took the phone from Meg's hand.
"Hello Ma'am. I'm friends with Meg…My name is Jazz…Yes, it is a unique name…You are very perceptive. I guess I am as unique as my name…I promise that I'll take care of Meg." As Meg listened to Jazz talking, she leaned into him and closed her eyes as she listened to his voice and the waves. Jazz continued reassuring that Meg was safe and there were no immediate threats. He also made sure that Jeanne knew that no, there wasn't any kinky sex going on either but he didn't put it that bluntly. Jazz was quiet for a stretch of time as he listened and when he spoke again, it was in a deep voice that sent shivers down Meg's spine. It was the voice of who, despite his relatively young age, was a veteran warrior and had more experience with battles, life, and death than a citizen could ever understand.
"If anyone comes after Meg, they will die or they will have to tear my spark from my body to get to her. I hold that promise as high as my oath as an Autobot." There was no doubting the words that Jazz spoke.
The conversation didn't last much longer since Jeanne couldn't have asked more in order to be sure that her daughter was safe besides a blood oath and the only thing stopping Jazz was the tiny fact that the Autobot didn't exactly have blood. An energon oath instead perhaps?
Meg was interrupted from her thoughts when Jazz handed the phone over to her. Taking it from him, the girl said good-bye to her mom and promised to call her the next day. Meg ended the call with a deep sigh. She closed her eyes and tossed the phone to the side.
"Well, you're still alive," Jazz smiled. Meg gave a cynic's laugh that sounded more like a cough.
"Barely."
Biting her lip, Meg twisted around to look at Jazz as he kept his arms wrapped around her waist. He looked down at her and didn't seem nearly as drained as she herself felt. When Meg didn't say anything right away as she looked at him, Jazz comically cocked an optic ridge. The girl couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips at such a human expression. Turning around to look back at the ocean, she leaned comfortably against Jazz.
"You know, I think you're my best friend."
"You think?" Jazz laughed while Meg rolled her eyes.
"Well, I know. I just didn't want you to laugh at me."
"Naw I would never laugh at my best friend like that," the mech whispered as he gave a light hug to the girl.
"I love you Jazz."
"I love you too girl," he said before he kissed her temple. He knew that it held no emotional relevance for him, but it held significance for Meg so it held significance for him.
Jazz was sitting on the deck, staring into firepit as the flames danced around. The kids playing ultimate Frisbee on the beach had no idea that the twenty-something year old leaning forward with his elbows on his knees was actually a hologram disguising a robot. Meg came out with her purse still clutched under her arm and rolled up newspaper in her hand. The girl walked up to him and wiggled her finger through the bill of Jazz's baseball cap that was casting his face in shadows. Meg never ceased to be amazed by how much detail Jazz put into his holograms. Of course that habit for details probably saved the saboteur's life more than once.
Ringing his hands, Jazz glanced up at Meg and smiled before leaning back.
"Have fun?" he asked in his deep baritone voice. Meg just shrugged in response and dumped herself next to him.
"A lot less eventful than the last time I was at the grocery store." Jazz laughed and shook his head.
"You know, ya kinda sound disappointed that nothin' blew up." Meg gave him a snide look. Tossing her purse on the built-in bench, she sat down beside Jazz and handed him the rolled up paper. With a somewhat cautious glance he took it from her and unrolled it. The Autotrader stared back up at him.
"What's with this?" he asked as he thumbed through it, the pages disappearing into his holographic skin. Meg shrugged again, not sure how Jazz was going to take what she was about to say.
"Well, I've seen a few Pontiac Solstices over the past couple of days since we've been here and…I kinda noticed something."
"What? That my alt mode is seriously kick ass?" he asked without looking up.
"Um, not quite." The look Jazz gave her was calculating and extremely on guard.
"What did ya notice?"
"That only middle aged women and old people drive them," Meg explained so quickly that her words nearly ran together. Jazz's face and body completely deflated and Meg immediately felt worse but at the same time she knew that he would want to know. "So I brought this home and maybe you can find something that convalescents don't drive."
"How sweet of you."
"As always." Jazz gave a non-affirmative grunt.
Thumbing through the pages, he started looking at the different designs to find out something that called to him. Meg watched him as he searched and was surprisingly quiet for a while until she pointed at a Mercedes-Benz C-Class. Jazz frowned and shook his head.
"Nice design but I want sports car, not luxury. More speed capabilities." Soon Jazz became so absorbed that Meg went inside to put her purse away. When she came back out she barely saw Jazz fold one a corner of a page before closing the magazine.
"So what did you choose?" Meg asked. Jazz gave her a smirk and shook his head. Meg narrowed her eyes in response. The game was on.
Meg was the first one to move, just as Jazz knew she would. As she dove to grab the magazine from his hands, the hologram-clad mech dodged out of the way and managed to get to the opposite side of the firepit. For a moment they were still as they stared at each other but then Jazz bolted towards the house. Meg dashed to intercept him but he had pulled the door open and was already inside.
There were no rules, no inhibitions, as the pair raced around the living room, trying to not destroy anything but trying even harder to win. It wasn't until Jazz tripped over the vacuum cleaner that he had been using earlier to help clean the place up that Meg was miraculously able to grab the magazine. She didn't have a chance to look at the dog-eared page since Jazz was already in fast pursuit after her. At first she tried to use the dining table to keep him at bay. It was working out well enough until Jazz used one of the chairs that hadn't been pushed in to jump over the table to land on Meg's side. Her thoughts of 'Oh shit' were clearly written all over her face.
Turning around as fast as she could, Meg gripped the rolled up magazine as tightly while Jazz was quickly closing the distance. He was right behind her and by the time she reached the end of the table, he passed her and cut off her escape route to the rest of the house. She was forced not only by Jazz but also by her momentum into the kitchen. But the girl was not going to give up that quickly. She may have been cornered but there was an advantage to the old-fashioned view of the kitchen being the woman's place.
Meg grabbed the retractable hose on the sink and swung it around so that it faced Jazz. She kept the hand holding the magazine at the ready to turn the water on while her other hand clutched the hose's lever down so that the moment that the pressure was on, the hose would be belching the water right at Jazz. The Autobot came to a skidding stop the moment he saw Meg's weapon trained on him. He had no idea what it was but by the way she was holding it and the smug look on her face, it had to be effective.
"Aw, come on girl. No need to get desperate here." The futile attempt at bargaining fell on deaf ears. Victory was within Meg's grasp and she wasn't about to slip up.
"Put your hands above your head where I can see them and then slowly back out of the kitchen."
Gradually Jazz raised his hands and took very tentative backward steps. Meg knew better than to believe that she had won that easily but she still didn't see it coming when Jazz's hand whipped down when he passed the counter beside the kitchen's threshold and flung the bag of flour right at her. By pure instinct Meg struck out at the bag and it would have ended harmlessly except the last person who had used it (that last person being Meg) didn't close it properly and a cloud of white powder filled the air.
Eventually the air cleared enough and Meg was left standing still holding her weapon and hostage looking as if a marshmallow had taken a giant dump on her. Jazz recorded her priceless expression of shock as her eyelids flickered, revealing her seemingly dark eyes which contrasted with her white…everything. Meg stood there rigidly, not even bothering to look around her at the impromptu winter that had exploded in the kitchen.
"You jackass!" the girl soundly cried, her battle cry accented with a tomato from the fruit basket beside the sink.
It was then that the infamous Food War of 2008 began. Food and anything that wouldn't leave a bruise or dent was soon flying through the wintery kitchen. Jazz had quickly dropped his hologram to conserve energy as he dodged and fired whatever weapon happened to come to hand. The brown paper grocery bags were quickly torn apart in search of projectiles but it was Meg who was able to make the biggest advantage by reaching the refrigerator. However, that advantage had been made with a price since she had left the remnants of the grocery bags unguarded. Those sacrifices were quickly put to use by Jazz as he delivered a nasty onslaught against the girl, forcing her to retreat from her main weapon.
There was much splattering of food, yelps of quick, smarting pain, and clanging of cabinet doors as the opponents became desperate for cover or ammunition. It didn't take long before metal and skin looked as if a box of edible crayons threw up on them. When all of the food was smeared in the floor, cupboards, furniture, appliances, and ceiling, the battle finally simmered to a stop.
Huffing and puffing, Meg crawled out from behind the kitchen's island and hesitantly approached Jazz as he stood beside the sink where Meg had abandoned the Autotrader. All that was left was a multi-colored mashy substance that had a vague resemblance to cars on the front. Jazz lifted it up between two fingers, letting it drip on to the floor. He grimaced and then tossed it into the sink.
Meg started to break down into laughter at the irony of the situation and how neither of them had won. Well, perhaps Jazz since Meg would never know what alternate mode he had chosen but she wasn't about to admit that. Still laughing, she pulled herself up onto the countertop beside the sink.
"I'm never going to get clean," Jazz muttered as he flicked a wad of butter off of his hand. Meg quickly solved his problem by dousing him with water from the sink's hose.
Jazz stood completely still as water and food dripped off him, staring at Meg with a blank expression. He didn't move until he spit a stream of water from his mouth, electricity crackling from his vocal capacitors.
"Thanks."
Author's Note: And no, I don't even know what his new alt mode will be. Serious research is in progress as we speak with the choices narrowing down. What will it be? Only DaJam knows.