Title: It's Not Funny, chapter 2 of
4
Author: Koi Lungfish
Disclaimer: Based on characters and
situations from The Transformers ((c) 1986 Hasbro, Ltd). Used without
permission. Text (c) 2008, Koi Lung Fish (Mark of Lung. All Rights
Reserved.)
Subject: A domestic abuse charity ask Jazz to help them
reach out to Starscream.
Continuity: G1 cartoon, late season 2.
Chapter 2 of 4
WARNING: implicit slash, explicit violence
"So that's it, huh?" Bluestreak asked, peering over Jazz's shoulders as they hunkered in the shelter of a ruined building, Decepticon fire shrieking overhead.
"Yup," Jazz replied, turning the flimsy leaflet over in his hands. It was a sheet of plasticized card nine feet long and six feet wide. The charity's logo was printed across the top in letters a foot tall and under it their slogan - "You Are Not Alone." Jazz had to wonder how smart that was. He scanned over the huge print again, picking up phrases like "harmful relationship" and "cycle of abuse", words such as "trapped", "alone", "afraid", and wondered if the charity had just scaled up one of their normal leaflets.
Jazz glanced over the broken wall. Starscream and two of the Constructicons were firing from behind a crushed warehouse, their backs to the big industrial building where the Decepticons' latest doomsday device was hidden. The Air Commander was dragging his right leg as he moved. Jazz smiled, reckoning he'd picked a good day. Starscream's injury was serious enough to prevent him leaping into the air the moment an Autobot got close, but not so serious that he'd feel threatened by little ol' Jazz.
Jazz took two seconds to read the leaflet properly. The Air Commander's name wasn't in the text but it was clearly written specifically for him. The opening paragraphs were full of outreaching "you are not alone" and "we know how you feel" that graded into more specific "you're in a bad relationship and you can get out of it", all "we're here to help" and "you don't have to suffer any more" with an added helping of "all you have to do is walk away".
Sure, tell the ol' glitch to pack in all that work clawing his way up the food chain, junk the whole 'conquering the universe' gig and come live in a draughty hangar in Kentucky, plantin' flowers and givin' kids flying lessons between therapy sessions an' little TV speeches. Hey, only took him a couple'a million years to make it to where he is, no big deal walking away just 'cause Megatron's got the gall to keep stayin' alive.
Jazz chuckled. Starscream would be mortified to find out what the humans thought of him.
He leaned back, humming a few bars along with the Bee Gees playing in his head, and held the leaflet up for Bluestreak to see. "Read this!" he whispered, voice wobbling with suppressed laughter.
Bluestreak leant against Jazz's back and read over his shoulder. Out of the corner of his visor Jazz could see the gunner's optics widening and his mouth opening in an expression of shock, then amusement, then horror.
"There are people who do things like that?" Bluestreak asked, sad-eyed. "I mean get into trouble like that, not just leave it, because if you didn't want to leave it would be -"
"Yeah, it happens," Jazz said, dismissing the matter with a shrug.
Bluestreak looked doubtful. "Even if it's just little arguments sometimes?"
"Dunno, Bluestreak, never been there myself," Jazz said and then noticed the gunner's worried expression. "I reckon you'd know if you were in one, man. Little arguments is normal. Betcha even Elita and Prime gotta row sometimes." He looked back at the leaflet and grinned hugely. "Starscream's gonna have afit! Man, Trailbreaker's gonna chew his spare tyre when he realizes he missed out on this one."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Bluestreak asked, turning to fire a rocket at a Constructicon. "Making Starscream angry, I mean, Trailbreaker can always think of a new joke. He could really hurt you, and I just don't know if Optimus Prime would really - "
"'course I'm sure!" Jazz said, unable to stop giggling even as a green and purple figure was flung into the air and vanished beyond the warehouses. "Starscream's gonna be too dumb-struck to more'n smack me around a few times, and I don't mind if it costs me an arm and a leg to get this one over him!" Jazz couldn't shake the image that had been in his mind since the charity contacted him, a mental picture of Megatron in a necktie, one hand raised in a fist whilst the other held a newspaper, and Starscream in a floral apron, crying and nursing a black eye. Jazz put his hand over his mouth and squeaked, trying so hard not to laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of it. "Can you cover me whilst I go see if ol' Starcreep's willing to accept delivery?"
"Sure," Bluestreak said, swiveling at the waist to burst-fire at a dark jet swooping overhead. "They look about ready to run but you know how sometimes they look like they're gonna run and then they turn on you, so don't be too long, because if you're gone for more than a few minutes I might get called away by Prime or Prowl or -"
"Be as fast as a turbofox full o' high-grade with Mirage on my trail," Jazz said, tipping Bluestreak a casual salute.
"That'd be really fast," Bluestreak said, sounding a bit distracted as he launched a pair of rockets over the building and into what, judging by the vast plume of light and the earthshaking roar, had been the Decepticons' energon storage.
With a quick chuckle, Jazz ducked down and leopard-crawled along the ground, sneaking around the ruined wall and into the trench of an unfinished pipeline that ran between the two buildings. Quickly looking around as he slipped into the trench, he saw only one Constructicon - Long Haul, he guessed - and he was backed into a corner by Bluestreak's guns, looking about ready to bug out and fly for it. Starscream was out of sight.
Keeping low to the ground Jazz scuttled along the trench, glad of the piles of spoil between himself and Long Haul. The sun shone pleasantly, basking on the bricks and broken concrete with warm, peaceful light. Jazz reflected it was a lovely day, just the sort of day to be parked out on a bluff somewhere listening to everything on the radio.
Damn, me and Blaster should've called in malfunctioning this morning, he thought. Wonder if Prowl'd believe chronic memory loops of the Bee Gees is bad enough for an afternoon off? Yo, Ratchet, I got a bad case of the contagious Gibbs! Yeah, that'd work 'bout as well as Huffer saying he's got a worn clutch and a slow puncture. Jazz laughed to himself.
On the other side of the rubble there was the abrupt whine of Decepticon flight tech. Jazz looked up and saw Long Haul receding into the sky. For a moment he thought the Construction was going to fire on him, but the Decepticon didn't seem to have noticed Jazz was there.
Now that's what I call showing a green pair of heels, Jazz thought, trying very hard not to hum along to the Bee Gees.
Popping up like a prairie dog out of a hole, he saw that the battlefield was emptying. There were jets in the distance, flying in protective loops around the retreating Constructicons and Megatron himself. Jazz winced as the Decepticon leader fired at something beyond the buildings, probably Prime, sending a vast thoom through the whole valley. The air darkened with churned soil and smoke, the earth shuddered, and Megatron escaped through the thick tower of foul smoke.
Jazz couldn't see Starscream in the retreat. Ho, they've gone and left him behind again! One of these days that's gonna bite Megatron in the aft.
The mental image of Starscream sinking his mandenta into Megatron's backside, Megatron hollering and flailing all over the place, made Jazz double over spluttering with laughter. At least it got rid of the Gibbs, Jazz thought, rising into a crouch as he snuck up to the battered building. There was an entrance labeled "Delivery Vehicles Only", which suited Jazz down to the ground. Dropping back down to all fours he crawled through the gateway into a big empty parking lot. There were a couple of delivery vans parked and empty, one on fire.
On the other side of the parking lot Jazz saw a broad door, just big enough for him to crawl through, so - smashing the glass and pulling out the doorframes as gently as possible - he wiggled through the corridor. It took a turn to the left - awkward but not impossible, although he gouged up lots of the well-polished wooden flooring - and then to the right where Jazz banged his aft on the doors of a big service elevator, and then straight ahead was a smashed-in door.
Through the door the corridor turned into a covered walkway, tall and wide enough for Jazz to crouch. Following it Jazz entered an open courtyard or quadrangle of grass and gravel. The Decepticons' weirdo device du jour was smouldering in a heap in the corner to his left. Starscream stood between Jazz and the machine, leaning away from the sparking power controls, poised as if about to abandon his post. Jazz wondered whether to back into the walkway and holler to Starscream or just pounce on him from behind.
Starscream twitched a wing then turned sharply, arms snapping up, and fired both barrels straight at Jazz.
'Hex and vex! Jazz thought, diving back into the walkway.Keep forgetting how good that glitch's rear-view hearing is. Guess you don't make 'con 2IC if you can't hear someone about to stab you in the back. Hot plasma whined past his heels and detonated against a distant wall. Overhead the concrete ceiling creaked.
"Stay chilled, man," Jazz called out to Starscream. "I'm here on a mission of mercy."
Starscream laughed, a brief snicker of sarcasm. "Tell it to the neutrals."
"Y'know Megatron bugged outta here 'bout five minutes ago," Jazz said. "Gone and left your behind behind again."
"What luck," Starscream sneered, soft-voiced. "I won't have to share my enjoyment of ripping out your cogs."
Uh-oh, Jazz thought. He sounds pretty frosty for a wounded dude who's been left bone-alone-o guardin' the flag. Well, there ain't no bomb in there or he'd've been up and out and half-way into orbit already. Means there's something valuable in that power box, something ol' Starcreep probably wants for himself.
Yeah, Jazz thought with a smile. Something he wants to grab for his own dirty tricks and tell Megatron we made off with. "You having fun, standin' around on guard duty there?"
"I'm not in the mood for foolish prattle, Auto-botch," Starscream snapped.
Jazz realized from the sound of his voice that the Air Commander had his back to Jazz's hiding place, probably elbows-deep in the power controls already. Damn, he works fast. "Yeah? How's this then, I got a message for you."
"A three-thousand-Fahrenheit message, I'm sure," Starscream said. He sounded pretty uninterested.
Son of a glitch knows I ain't got the firepower to do more than scratch his back, Jazz thought with a frown. And whatever's in Megatron's new toy there is more interesting than cracking my face. Looks like it's time to get up-close and personal with the Big Ugly. The butterflies of laughter started up their jig in his fueltank. Or just time to get personal. "Not quite. It's about nine feet long, six feet wide and flat."
Silence. The distant thump of gunfire. Someone was still holding out on the other side of the valley, unable or unwilling to retreat. Nearby, water dripped monotonously on concrete.
"You're warning me you have a nanoblade throwing knife?" Starscream asked, sounding more curious than alarmed. "You Autobots get stupider all the time."
"This ain't for throwing," Jazz said, restraining not only laughter but also the long habit of addressing Decepticons by rude names. "It's written down. Y'know, all those letters making up words? You want me to read it to you or d'you know how to do that yourself?"
"Idiot!" Starscream shouted. "If this is some foolish Autobot game - "
Jazz scrambled back as he heard Starscream's footsteps stamping towards him, the tough rims of the Seeker's exhaust nozzles cutting through the concrete floor and the awkward scraping drag of his damaged leg. Jazz tucked up his legs, readying himself to tackle Starscream around the knees and then sit on him and give him a good hard mocking.
This is gonna be fun, as long as I don't get killed, Jazz thought.
Starscream's arm lunged around the corner and grabbed Jazz by the shoulder. With a yelp the saboteur threw his weight away from the Decepticon even as the hard-angled body moved into view, blocking out the light.
Scorch and singe, they build these goons big in Polyhex! Jazz thought, freeing himself from Starscream's grip and diving into the corridor for cover. He skidded on the polished floor and hit the elevator with a resounding clang, his headfirst leap carrying him through the doors and chest-deep into the elevator carriage. Half-in and half-out, arms stuck in the doorway, Jazz looked up and saw Starscream's optics reflected in the steel wall of the elevator, shining like a pair of laser sights.
Aw, junkbuckets! Jazz thought. This is gonna hurt. "Hey man, don't take it out on me - I just came to talk."
"I'm sure your moronic Autobot babble about peace and friendship hasn't changed since the last time I was captive," Starscream said. He was hunched up in the walkway, wings tearing into the ceiling. He was too big in the shoulders to get into the corridor, Jazz saw with slight relief, but his arms were easily long enough to reach Jazz's legs. Jazz quickly drew his feet up as far as he could but Starscream could still reach him if he tried.
Jazz realized that a few small explosions in the right place would bury them both in several hundred tons of concrete. He wasn't certain if that would be a good idea or not. If I took him prisoner we could have a nice friendly sorta talk with a handy-dandy set of electron bars between his hands and my vital circuits. Still, can't say I fancy being buried under all that rubble with Big Ugly here, 'specially not this particular Tall Mad and Claustrophobic. "Hold the line, this is a new message, hot off the press."
"What are you blathering about, you pest?" Starscream snapped, wriggling as he tried to get his air-scoops through the door. His fingers scraped the floor half a hand's length from Jazz's feet. Jazz considered kicking but knew the Seeker was faster than him, easily fast enough to catch his flailing feet and drag him out on his aft.
Aww, rivets and rust! I can't hand him the leaflet in this position neither, Jazz thought. He drew his knees up as high as he could, until they were tucked under his bumper, and tried not to think about Starscream shooting him in the aft. Then he braced his feet against the ceiling, put his hands to the outside of the elevator door-frame and with a shout of "Hup!" somersaulted backwards. Plaster sprayed from holes torn in the ceiling and walls, showering Jazz with white dust.
Jazz landed on all fours, face-to-face with the barrel of Starscream's null ray. The Seeker's upper lip curled in a nasty smile.
"Whoa, whoa!" Jazz slowly felt under his chest for the leaflet. It was a bit crumpled but intact. He held it out to the Decepticon. "Mission o' mercy, man," he said. "You got friends you didn't know you had."
"Mercy would be your vocalizer shutting down," Starscream said, peering at the leaflet with intent suspicion. "What is it?"
"The news, the truth and the way out," Jazz said, trying to get the last set of evangelist broadcasts he'd heard out of his vocal processor. Bang it, worse than the Gibbs!
"You are incomprehensible," Starscream said, optics flicking as he snap-scanned the leaflet. There was no way he could read it at that angle, even if he realized it was written in human.
"It don't bite," Jazz said, holding it out a little closer.
As he'd gambled, Starscream's in-built curiosity overrode his self-preservation as it always did and the Air Commander tweaked the fragile thing from between Jazz's fingers.
The Seeker moved back into the freedom of the courtyard, backing up doubled over until his air-scoops stopped scraping the ceiling, his bad leg still dragging ruts in the concrete. Keeping a gun trained on Jazz, Starscream glanced at the leaflet, back at Jazz, then looked at the leaflet again.
His optics widened, brightening like flares. He stiffened, joints rigid, shoulders pulled back, wings quivering. His mouth opened soundlessly.
Starscream looked down the corridor at Jazz with his optics blazing and his mandenta bared and gleaming sharply, his wings quivering. His fingers worked in spasms like he was crushing someone's face between them.
"You-!" and it came out like the scream of an air-raid siren. The distant background of gunfire paused. "You dare-!" and every window for ten miles shattered. "You dare to insinuate that I-!" Starscream howled in anger. His hands clenched and lit up in a corona of electricity that sparked and spat and set the leaflet burning into an ashy rag.
The Air Commander shook with rage and Jazz could finally laugh as loud as he had longed to do for days.
Author's notes & addenda: Feedback always welcomed.
