No Rhyme or Reason
Chapter 25
Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. They belong to Hasbro and Takara. I am merely taking them for a short spin.
0801. Prowl sat at his desk, readying himself for the day. Checking his schedule, organizing reports, answering emails, and his door opened. Jazz walked in without a word, sitting down on the corner of his friend's desk.
"Good morning," Prowl said, giving the special ops mech a glance.
"Mornin'," Jazz replied. "Why didn't you answer my comms last night? You're not even supposed to be here. You should be over at the city right now. You're supposed to be in charge there until Ultra Magnus gets back from Cybertron."
Prowl set down his data pad, giving Jazz his full attention. "Who decided this?"
"Magnus talked it over with me and Kup last night," Jazz said. "Optimus knows, and he approved it. He won't be back on active duty for a couple of days, and Ratchet won't let him have back even his administrative duties, so it falls to you. I've got the Ark."
"I see," Prowl said, standing. "Thank you for letting me know."
"Yeah," Jazz said, standing. "I'll keep an eye on Springer, make sure he behaves himself."
Prowl stiffened ever so slightly at the mention of the triple changer's name. Interesting, that, Jazz thought.
"I'll come see you tonight," he said. "I'll leave Hot Spot or Silverbolt in charge. It'll do 'em some good. We need to talk, Prowler."
With that, he left the second in command alone.
88888
Spending time walking around the city with Arcee wasn't a bad way to spend an afternoon. She'd traded patrol so she could spend part of the day with Hot Rod. He knew it wasn't just because Ultra Magnus was gone. She really did want to spend time with him. Now that the line between them was clear, the pressure was off. Hot Rod could just enjoy her company with out trying to impress her. He could be himself. That was the problem, he reflected. Maybe if he'd just been himself all along, she would be with him, or maybe in a trine with him and Springer.
Her choice made, and Springer still couldn't accept it. Now he was making an aft of himself, and butting in where he had no right. Hot Rod only hoped Springer didn't do anything stupid. And he didn't need a lecture like the one he received from his friend. He'd just have to bury his feelings for his Prime, move on and get over it.
"What are you thinking?" Arcee asked. "You've been quiet a long time. That's unusual. Everything OK?"
"Yeah," Hot Rod said.
"It is not," Arcee said, stopping, forcing him to look at him when she grabbed his chin. "I've always been able to tell when you're lying."
"Spring's just being a pain, that's all," Hot Rod said.
"About?" Arcee asked.
"Things that are none of his business," he said.
"Have your optics on someone new?" she said.
"You could say that," Hot Rod said.
"That's good," Arcee said. "Isn't it?"
"Not really, for a lot of reasons I'd rather not discuss," Hot Rod said.
"Rodi, you know you can always talk to me," Arcee said.
"'Cee, can we drop it, please?"
"All right," she said, slipping her hand into his and pulling him along. "What happened to the devil-may-care Hot Rod I used to know?"
"He's taking a break," Hot Rod said. "If I want the promotion I'm gunning for, I can't mess up. Well, more than I already have."
"I can't imagine you not getting to work with Kup," Arcee said.
"I've been informed there are other more experienced mechs who are far more deserving than myself," Hot Rod said.
"Who told you that?" Arcee said.
"No one," Hot Rod said.
"What is wrong with you?"
"Nothing," he said, wishing she would drop it.
One-word answers. Not good, Arcee thought.
"I'll tell Ratchet something is bothering you," she said.
"You wouldn't," Hot Rod said.
"Try me," Arcee said. "This isn't like you. I've never seen you so down."
"Springer was right for once, and let's leave it at that," Hot Rod said.
"It's obviously bothering you, so why don't you tell me?" she said.
He sighed. "You won't take no for an answer?"
"Hardly," she said, dragging him off the main walkway into a courtyard, shoving him toward a bench.
He took a seat, and Arcee sat down beside him.
"I have all afternoon," she said. "I can wait."
Hot Rod knew she was trying to help, but there was really no helping the matter. No matter Springer's state when he said the words, he was right about his feelings for Optimus—never happening. Springer had been worked up about something, probably more than Arcee, now that he thought about it. He'd have to dig into it later.
"I have some good news to pass on," Arcee said, hoping it would help. "Ultra Magnus said Optimus' opinion of you has changed. He's spoken very highly of you to Magnus lately. Even Magnus is impressed with your behavior."
"Not much trouble to get into when you're stuck in the med bay," Hot Rod said.
"I'm sure you have tried driving Ratchet up a wall," Arcee said.
"A little," he said. "He's easier to get along with when you're compliant. And he's actually not that bad."
"Well, I'm happy to hear you're living up to that potential of yours, if you've managed to get Optimus' attention," Arcee said. "Been spending a little time with him, too, haven't you?"
"Yeah," Hot Rod said.
"He does leave an impression," she said.
No answer. Was Optimus the problem?
"Is it Optimus?" Arcee asked. "The one you have your optics on?"
He nodded in affirmation.
"Rodi, I'm sorry," she said.
"Thanks," he said. "C'mon. I'm done moping. Let's go brighten up Ratchet's day."
88888
Jazz found Prowl in Optimus' office, working late. Not a surprise. Throwing himself down in a chair, he waited for his friend to acknowledge his presence, but Prowl kept working.
"I should tell Ratchet you're overextending yourself," Jazz said.
"If you do, I'll tell him it was you who glued the contents of his quarters to the ceiling," Prowl said, not looking up.
"And I'll let him know it was you who webbed everything in the med bay together with string," Jazz said.
Prowl looked up, setting down his data pad. "He would never believe you," he said.
"He would believe proof," Jazz said.
"There was no evidence connecting me to the incident," Prowl said. "I made sure of it."
"I can fabricate evidence," Jazz said.
"What is it you want to discuss? Prowl asked, leaning back in his chair, steepling his fingers.
Jazz took it for what it was—digging in for the coming fight.
"You know what I came to talk about," Jazz said. "Just scratching an itch with Springer, or what?"
"Proving a point," Prowl said.
"Come again?"
"You heard me," Prowl said. "I'm hoping to teach him a lesson. He can't just use others, so I'm. . ."
"Using him? Whatever, Prowler. He's just had you wound so tight for so long you don't know what to do now you've got him," Jazz said. "At least I was right—you are attracted to each other."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Prowl said.
"You spent the last two nights with him," Jazz said. "I can't remember the last time you spent one night with someone."
Prowl pursed his lips. Jazz grinned back. He could work around obstinate Prowl.
"Admit it—you like him," Jazz said. "If you didn't, you wouldn't have traded paint once, let alone twice. Besides, he complements you."
"You're out of your mind," Prowl said. "He's emotional, illogical. . ."
"Everything you're not," Jazz said.
"I think you need to see Ratchet," Prowl said. "Or possibly First Aid. I'm sure one of them would be glad to take a look at you."
"Have you even talked with Springer about what's going on?" Jazz asked.
"Nothing is going on, therefore we have nothing to discuss," Prowl said. "If you'll excuse me, I have work to do."
Jazz stood, giving his friend one last look before turning and walking out the door. To his surprise, Springer was coming down the corridor. Funny, he was supposed to be on monitor duty at the Ark.
"What're you doing here?" Jazz asked as he passed the other mech.
"Traded with Bumblebee," Springer said. "I'm taking his patrol with Gears tomorrow."
Gears was one of the most unpleasant minibots in the Autobot forces. He had a few close friends, but at best, the rest of the Autobots tolerated his presence. That Springer volunteered to take a patrol with him meant something was indeed going on with Prowl.
"See you tomorrow," Jazz said, continuing on. But he stopped when he heard a door slide shut. The door to Prime's office.