This probably wasn't what you really had in mind. This wasn't exactly what I had in mind but the idea is close |D
Takes place kinda early in Style's arrival on Earth. ---
Jazz had gotten three complaints in two days. 'That mech's just been causing trouble since he got here!', 'The entirety of the section 8 junction is a mess!', 'Jazz, you need to get Freestyle under control.'
Which, under normal circumstances, would have had that black and white pulling said mech aside for a long chat, but the circumstances were hardly normal. Jazz hadn't seen Freestyle in days. With the exception of showing up for monitor duty, the Impreza had made himself scarce. And that, to Jazz, did not bode well.
But first thing was first. Jazz tracked down Relay in one of Ark's common areas, the mid-day hours granting him almost exclusive use of the room while everyone else was either resting or attending to their assigned duties.
"Jazz!" The red mech smiled broadly, waving at the empty seat next to him. "What are you up to today?"
Jazz, though accepting the seat, did not return the smile back. "Relay," he said flatly, "you need to stop."
The Lancer tilted his head to one side. "Stop what?"
"You know you can't lie to me. I know the both of you too well."
The smile fell from Relay's faceplates. Deciding it prudent to not press his commanding officer, he stayed silent.
Air heaved through Jazz's vents and he was feeling his rank and age in ways he didn't enjoy feeling. "Why are you pulling these stunts, Relay? It's not from some weird sense of obligation, is it?"
Yellow optics widened at that. "What? No! No, it's not... not... really..." The Lancer slouched down, looking at his hands as if staring at them would hide himself from Jazz.
"So then what is it really?"
"It's for Freestyle. I'm not trying to make up for anything doing this, I'm... it's...," he'd be slouching down further if it were possible, "I'm trying to protect him."
Jazz did not look at all convinced, opticband staring steadily through the younger mech. "Protecting him by getting him into trouble with everyone else?"
"No, it's not- I'm trying- it's complicated!"
"Freestyle's still distancing himself from the other Autobots due to trust issues, went off somewhere and you're trying to cover for his absence by pulling pranks to make everyone think he's still lurking around so they won't grow concerned about him and start pressing him with questions he doesn't want to deal with. Right?"
Relay boggled. "Er... well, yeah. Pretty much."
A quirk of lips was his first reply. "I told ya I knew the both of you too well. Where's yer brother?"
The return of Jazz's less formal speech pattern didn't ease Relay's guilt any. "I don't know. He's only been back when he has to and leaves without telling me anything." Then, almost inaudibly, "He hasn't been answering any of my comms."
Standing, the Porsche leaned over to pat Relay's shoulder. "I'll track 'im easy, no worries."
A hand clamped down on his, Relay's expression desperate, "He's not in trouble, is he?"
Were it anyone else- and were he anyone else -a denial would easily have slipped through his vocalizer. But this was Jazz and he didn't pad the truth for his mechs. "We'll havta see. I'm not lookin' to get him in trouble, but him an' I are gonna have a long chat. What comes outta that will depend on him." He patted Relay's shoulder again before turning to leave the room and then Ark.
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timeasmymeasure
Relay - keeping up appearances
Date: 2009-07-06 09:11 pm (UTC)Takes place kinda early in Style's arrival on Earth.
---
Jazz had gotten three complaints in two days. 'That mech's just been causing trouble since he got here!', 'The entirety of the section 8 junction is a mess!', 'Jazz, you need to get Freestyle under control.'
Which, under normal circumstances, would have had that black and white pulling said mech aside for a long chat, but the circumstances were hardly normal. Jazz hadn't seen Freestyle in days. With the exception of showing up for monitor duty, the Impreza had made himself scarce. And that, to Jazz, did not bode well.
But first thing was first. Jazz tracked down Relay in one of Ark's common areas, the mid-day hours granting him almost exclusive use of the room while everyone else was either resting or attending to their assigned duties.
"Jazz!" The red mech smiled broadly, waving at the empty seat next to him. "What are you up to today?"
Jazz, though accepting the seat, did not return the smile back. "Relay," he said flatly, "you need to stop."
The Lancer tilted his head to one side. "Stop what?"
"You know you can't lie to me. I know the both of you too well."
The smile fell from Relay's faceplates. Deciding it prudent to not press his commanding officer, he stayed silent.
Air heaved through Jazz's vents and he was feeling his rank and age in ways he didn't enjoy feeling. "Why are you pulling these stunts, Relay? It's not from some weird sense of obligation, is it?"
Yellow optics widened at that. "What? No! No, it's not... not... really..." The Lancer slouched down, looking at his hands as if staring at them would hide himself from Jazz.
"So then what is it really?"
"It's for Freestyle. I'm not trying to make up for anything doing this, I'm... it's...," he'd be slouching down further if it were possible, "I'm trying to protect him."
Jazz did not look at all convinced, opticband staring steadily through the younger mech. "Protecting him by getting him into trouble with everyone else?"
"No, it's not- I'm trying- it's complicated!"
"Freestyle's still distancing himself from the other Autobots due to trust issues, went off somewhere and you're trying to cover for his absence by pulling pranks to make everyone think he's still lurking around so they won't grow concerned about him and start pressing him with questions he doesn't want to deal with. Right?"
Relay boggled. "Er... well, yeah. Pretty much."
A quirk of lips was his first reply. "I told ya I knew the both of you too well. Where's yer brother?"
The return of Jazz's less formal speech pattern didn't ease Relay's guilt any. "I don't know. He's only been back when he has to and leaves without telling me anything." Then, almost inaudibly, "He hasn't been answering any of my comms."
Standing, the Porsche leaned over to pat Relay's shoulder. "I'll track 'im easy, no worries."
A hand clamped down on his, Relay's expression desperate, "He's not in trouble, is he?"
Were it anyone else- and were he anyone else -a denial would easily have slipped through his vocalizer. But this was Jazz and he didn't pad the truth for his mechs. "We'll havta see. I'm not lookin' to get him in trouble, but him an' I are gonna have a long chat. What comes outta that will depend on him." He patted Relay's shoulder again before turning to leave the room and then Ark.