Author's Notes: I have no idea where this came from and I wrote it completely out on a limb. The original story as to how Jynx and Jazz met was completely different. (First they met in a bar) But I never gave it much thought before. Anyway, this first chapter is more of a intro to Jynx's character. So if anyone has the time, give me some feed back on this and tell me if you like where this is heading.:) Open to suggestions! Write an e-mail if you'd rather, my address is in my profile. (No flames please.) Thank ya much and I hope ya enjoy:)
Oh and no I don't own Transformers, I only own Jynx, Patchjob, "Patchjob's Lucky Shot Repair Shop" and Demircon. (Please note that Demircon is Jazz's home city-state BTW ;))
More Than Friendship
Chapter one
It had been a short scuffle that had claimed the life of Jazz's trusty rifle. The poor metal was now bent in odd directions and covered in laser singes, looking more like it had been through a thousand wars rather than maybe a few battles. Then again, all new cadets went through guns on a semi-regular basis because of their lack of experience with weapons. Still, even it hadn't been an old gun and didn't have any long overdrawn stories like one of his instructors, Kup, had told them so much about; the young Demirconian refused to give up on his humble rifle. The small weapon had saved his life! Tossing it away with the compactor seemed like a horrible way to repay his loyal rifle. If he could just find a repair tech, maybe it could be brought back from the brink of being a resident of scrap yard city. Or at least he hoped it could.
Up ahead, a sign reading "Patchjob's Lucky Shot Repair Shop" flickered in neon pink colors. Anything was better than nothing, and the rifle had to be repaired within the cycle. Jazz shrugged and opened the door, stopping short at what he saw.
The place was a complete wreck! Scraps were in a pile that reached the top of the building and petro rabbits scurried from dark corner to dark corner. The walls looked like a light breeze would knock them over and rust covered the floor in large blotches. Jazz was almost afraid to step inside, knowing the wrong step would put him one floor under.
"Hey Patchjob! Where'd you put those pliers? I dropped that power pack in the smelter again," A small framed mech shouted, his back to Jazz. "Hurry up or it'll explode again!"
A blue mech then appeared around the corner, a frown plastered across his face, "I told ya to watch that! If ya blow another pack, yer gunna put the 'Shop in the basement!"
The angry blue face then turned sharply to Jazz, his optics narrowing. "Whatcha want young'n? This ain't no bar."
"I was just looking fer someone ta take a look at my gun, but I can see yer busy, so I'll just skedaddle…"
"Now wait a sec," the blue mech put his hand on Jazz's retreating back to stop him, "if it's business yer here for…we can help ya." Blue squared his shoulders proudly and puffed out his chest. "We're the best ya know."
An explosion sounded somewhere behind him and the workshop became unearthly silent before a chipper voice shouted out, "Found that power pack!"
Jazz suddenly felt a rock in his stomach. "Er…naw, that's okay. It's beyond repair anyway," Jazz tried again to shuffle out the door.
"Lettme see an' I'll tell ya if it aint worth it."
The young cadet shifted from foot to foot before finally surrendering the gun. "She's a good rifle…just had a few too many fights is all…"
The tech just grunted at Jazz, his optics never leaving the gun. Patchjob's hands traced the gouges in the metal while he looked down the barrel, his optics narrowing. Jazz just stood quietly as the older mech looked over the gun, although he got the feeling Patchjob wasn't really looking at the gun at all. It was more like he was just trying to look busy.
"Well, kid. Ya might be able at save it, but I think it'd be cheaper ta buy yerself a new one." The gun was replaced in the cadet's hands, "we can't fix it though. Take too much time."
Jazz nodded sadly and sub-spaced the rifle, "Yeah, I thought so. Thanks fer yer time…Mr….?"
"Patchjob." The old mech's chest proudly puffed up again, "Best tech you'll find in this part."
"Hurmph," the little mech behind Patchjob grunted, "In this shop maybe. In this part, I doubt it. Go to Mechix in the Pavalons. They slag us every time."
"Shut yer hole, Young'n! Yer gunna ruin the shop with talk like that!"
"You shouldn't swindle mechs, Patch."
"Aint swindlin'!" Patchjob frantically reached over to Jazz, trying desperately to keep the cadet's attention away from the other tech. "Ignore her. She don't got any idea what's goin' on 'round here."
She? Jazz blanched, and took another look at the small mech he saw when he first came in. The little mech on the countertop was actually a femme. A bulky, awkward, dingy, dented and scratched femme, but defiantly a femme. At least from the front she looked like one. Yet… she was strangely attractive…what made her attractive alluded Jazz but he wasn't one to question his optics.
"You are. But go ahead. Buy a new one from Patch. You'll end up paying double and it'll break in a vorn but go ahead!" The femme turned her back to the two mechs crossing her arms grumpily.
Patchjob picked up a scrap piece and hurled it at the femme's head, "Shut yer hole, Jynx!"
"Whoa there, buddy. That aint called for, now is it?" Jazz held Patchjob's hand back.
"Girl's got a temper an' can't repair anything. Ya ask me the girl's worthless." Patchjob snagged a rag from the table, wiping his hands on it; sneering all the while at the femme's back. "Ah, but what do you care, eh young'n? All you want is a new gun, am I right?"
The old blue mech tossed the rag, hitting Jynx again in the back of the head before walking to the back room. "Follow me, kid. I getcha a good gun an' you'll never wanna go anywhere else fer yer repairs or weapons, eh?"
Jazz glanced over at the femme who was glaring menacingly at the older tech and mangling a wrench in her hands.
"Ya know," Jazz turned his glaze to Patchjob and un-subspacing the old twisted metal in the shape of a gun. "I think I'm gunna go to the Pavilions. It's on my way home, anyway." The femme looked startled but remained silent. "You think ya can show me the way to that Mechix…Jynx, wasn't it?"
Jynx smiled at the cadet, "I guess anything's better than this hole." She hopped off the countertop and reached into a cabinet behind her. Petro rabbits scurried from the open cabinet and some more scraps fell out as she finally brought out a cache of credits.
"Get yer hands outta there!" Patchjob limped over to the cabinets, "you take those creds and you can never come back here!"
"It's my creds. You can't threaten me with them." Jynx calmly put the money into her sub-space pocket. "It aint worth it to stay here."
"Fine! See how you earn a living, young'n. We were good ta you and you'll regret it."
"I've been looking for an excuse to get outta here and now I have one. I'll take you to the Pavilions and then I'll go look for a new workshop." Jynx said determinately, packing a few other belongings.
Jazz looked admittedly confused. He hadn't intended the femme to quit her job and move. He just thought she'd rather get away from the master shop's man. Now she was going out on a limp to move and quit her job; just like that?
Shoving one last article into her subspace, Jynx walked out the door. She didn't even look back as she shouted one final, "See ya, Scumball!" leaving both Jazz and Patchjob confused in her wake.