Rhythm & Hues: Interlude I

Daddy

Sparkplug sipped from a mug of steaming coffee to ward off the early morning spring chill. Jazz kept half his attention on the monitors before him, while he chatted with the human. He knew Sparkplug's eyes rested on the blue femme on the training grounds.

They couldn't hear Ironhide's snarl, but they could see Rhythm's frustration in the tautness of her doorwings and the thin line of her mouth.

"You know, Jazz, as much as you adopt our ways, I'm surprised you don't have them calling you 'Dad.'"

Jazz tilted his visor down at the chunky man. A wicked grin replaced his contemplative look and he opened a channel, putting it on the speakers for Sparkplug.

"Hey, Rhythm!"

"What do you want, Jazz? I'm sure you can see I'm a little busy." Purple optics slid a glare toward the camera, only to whip back when Ironhide snapped for her attention.

"I was just wonderin' if I could get ya t' call me Dad, or," he brightened, bouncing on his heel wheels, "even better Big Daddy Jazz."

Wide optics stared at the camera until Ironhide yelled again. Rhythm winced and fired at the target, hitting the ground beneath. "I swear, Jazz, if you get me in trouble with Ironhide, I'm going to… to blast you with this rifle!" She waved the weapon at the camera emphatically. Ironhide marched over and walloped the back of her head.

Jazz leaned on the console, roaring with laughter. "If y' can hit me, babydoll."

"Shut UP, Jazz!" There came the distinctive static click of a comm. unit being turned off.

Sparkplug clutched at his side, leaning against the Porsche's leg as he shook with mirth.

"Well I guess that's a no go from her. Heh. I see why y' like to torment Spike so much now. It's too much fun."

Thu human nodded his balding head, face red as he caught his breath. "It is, isn't it?"

"So, how did patrol with Hues go?" Trailbreaker asked, grinning up at Hound.

Hound opened his mouth, then shut the scathing reply off. He plunked himself down across from the SUV. "I might have to ask Jazz how a dancer could have such Primus-slagged balance in her alt-mode." Hound thunked his head on the table. "She managed to slip off the track we were on. Over a guard rail to boot. She's wearing on my patience."

Trailbreaker laughed, rubbing the back of the tracker's head sympathetically. "Was she hurt?"

"She wouldn't have been if she hadn't tried to transform while she was sliding. She managed to wrench her leg servos. Ratchet's seeing her right now."

Trailbreaker slid his half full mug toward Hound's gray hands. "Well dirt and rock are different than paved streets. Give her time to adjust."

Hound harrumphed and lifted his head to down the rest of Trailbreaker's energon. "Sports cars shouldn't be patrolling mountain roads." He stood to retrieve two full cups. "How went Rhythm's target practice, Mirage?"

Mirage winked into view. His even expression contrasted the tenseness of his frame. "She couldn't hit Devastator if he were standing right in front of her," he groused. "Prowl's taken over. He's determined she will at least hit the target today."

Hound smirked and leaned over to pointedly sniff at the spy, a gesture he knew irked the noble. "Well, you don't smell like blaster burns today." They headed for the energon dispenser. Hound idly swung the mug by its handle.

Mirage glowered down at the tracker. "It wasn't my fault, Hound. Who knew she had the targeting systems of a…" he sourly paused in search of a word, "maintenance drone."

They filled their cups and headed back to the .0couches. They sat down, Hound sitting next to Trailbreaker and Mirage across from them.

"I wish Ratchet would hurry up and give them their upgrades. Those two are not programmed shoot a gun," Mirage grumbled.

"Or drive on dirt roads," Hound added, though what little frustration he held had leached away in sympathy of Mirage.

Trailbreaker shook his head at their echoing grumbles. "Well there's Hound's short."

Hound looked up and Mirage glanced over his shoulder.

Hues paused at the doorway, scanning the gathered mechs. She focused on one in particular and her doorwings lifted happily.

"Jazzdaddy!"

Optics raised in surprise at the cheerful call. Silence deafened the room.

Jazz turned from his conversation with Smokescreen and laughed. He stood and embraced the giggling Esprit.

"Hues babydoll!"

"Rhythm said you were pestering her about name calling all day."

Jazz chuckled and released his creation. "Yeah, but I said I wanted to be 'Big Daddy Jazz.'"

Hues waved at everyone even as she flicked her doorwings at the newly dubbed 'Jazzdaddy.' "Well, you're not going to completely get your way. Then you'll think you can walk all over me." She made her way to the energon dispenser, playfully bumping bots out of the way with her hips.

"I was wondering why Rhythm was so distracted," Mirage sighed.

As if on cue, Rhythm stalked into the room, and headed straight for Jazz. The saboteur turned and ducked a swipe from the blue dancer's fist.

"Jazz hold still so I can RIP THAT VISOR OFF YOUR FACEPLATE AND STUFF IT UP YOUR BORON COMPRESSOR!"

"Well, 'screen, I think that's my cue to leave. Later Hues!" He ducked another swing and dashed out of the lounge like his aft was on fire. Or like he had an angry blue femme chasing after him.

Author's notes: These interludes will be loosely connecting and of varying lengths depending on the subject matter. I'll also be doing something I don't usually do, with every update I'll be changing the summary to reflect the new chapter (or at least I'm going to try). The rating on this will go up in a few chapters due to the topic. Slash warnings(as well as others) will be applied where applicable.