Bumblebee had barely been gone for ten minutes when Jazz's comm buzzed.
And the moment he saw who it was, he knew—knew—he was about to die.
Jazz sighed aggressively and answered.
: Jazz. :
Yep. He was dead.
: Prime, : Jazz said, already bracing for impact.
There was a heavy pause. Then—
: Would you like to explain why Bumblebee is not at base? :
Jazz winced.
In the background, he could hear Ratchet yelling something along the lines of, "I swear to Primus, I will rip that little glitch's doors off—"
Jazz sighed. : Yeah, about that— :
Optimus's voice dropped into that terrifyingly calm tone that meant he was already disappointed.
: You let him escape. :
Jazz scowled. : I ain't his damn babysitter, Prime! :
Optimus sighed like a tired parent. : He was supposed to be under supervision, Jazz. :
Lennox, who had been listening way too closely, leaned in and whispered, "Ask him if Bee's grounded."
Jazz shoved him away.
Harry, sitting nearby, grinning like the menace he was, called out, "Hey, tell Optimus Bee says hi!"
Optimus, clearly hearing that, sighed again.
: We will discuss this later. :
The comm cut off.
Jazz let out a long breath. "Well. We're fragged."
Epps, still laughing, shook his head. "Man, Bee really just threw himself into house arrest for some head pats, huh?"
Harry smirked. "Can you blame him?"
Jazz gave him a look. "Yes. Yes, I can."
Ironhide, arms crossed, just muttered, "Still don't get it."
Jazz threw up his hands. "Then explain why every damn Autobot is treatin' Harry like he's the next fraggin' Prime!?"
Epps snorted. "Because it's hilarious."
Lennox nodded. "And because you're suffering."
Jazz glared. "I hate you both."
Harry, so smug it was unbearable, patted Jazz's shoulder. "Cheer up, boss bot. You love me."
Jazz groaned. "I need to lay down."
Harry grinned. "You can lay down on me—"
Jazz clamped a hand over his mouth.
Epps wheeze-laughed. Lennox was crying. Ironhide was confused.
And Jazz?
Jazz was officially done with life.