Chapter Text
There was an Enforcer in Jazz’s rearview mirror, and he was livid . Jazz laughed, wild and joyful, as he sped down the highway, slowly widening the gap between him and his pursuer. He’d been looking for a last bit of fun on his off day, after all it was the end of his stay in Praxus and he’d have to head back to Iacon soon, so why not go a little wild?
Enjoy the company of this insanely prickly bot that Jazz was actually starting to become a bit fond of. Give Prowl a goodbye to remember, haha! It wasn’t really a fair race, all things considered, all Jazz had to do was be small and fast enough to keep ahead on the packed city roads.
As long as he made it to the point where the highway went from “Praxus” to “Interstate Purgatory” Prowl would be out of his jurisdiction, and have no reason to continue his chase.
◈❖◈
Normally, Jazz wasn’t one to start trouble.
Well.
Not often, anyway. Did that time in Kaon with those little minibot twins even count? All they’d done was swap around some of the paint pail labels in the arena’s storage area… And he totally didn’t start that!
Okay, okay, so maybe he’d cause trouble once in a while, but he never did anything if he thought he’d be caught! Which was why he especially was careful when he was out working! Being one of Alpha Trion’s little searchers was a sweet gig, and it came with a lot of benefits, but it did not include a literal get-out-of-jail-free card. Usually.
Being a Cultural Investigator was a lot of fun! He traveled all over at no personal expense, had a free pass to go basically anywhere he desired, and got to take in all the rad new trends in music and art and social conventions and everything else wherever he went! The only thing he had to do was not get arrested, which would absolutely kill his career prospects.
So the Jazzmeister didn’t start trouble he couldn’t get out of.
This time, his assignment had been to attend a Science and Engineering convention in Praxus, and make notes on the presentations and presentees. That was all pretty interesting, but day one of the convention was over. Now he was bored and itching to do anything to relieve the restless energy, and that made him want to start trouble when he really shouldn’t!
Which led him to the here and now, where he had no work to do, no friends in Praxus who were free to hang out, and no good clubs to jive at. It was the start of the decacycle and everything that was any good as entertainment was closed until the next cycle!
Jazz didn’t want to go back to his hotel just yet, so he considered a nice brisk drive, but Praxus was overzealous with their speed limit enforcement, and fines were doubled for non-locals. Letting a great gust of air woosh from his vents, Jazz dropped his helm into his hands.
Fine. He’d go for a walk. Maybe he’d find a nice place to have his evening cube.
It was nice outside the hotel at least and Jazz enjoyed the early evening ambiance as he slowly walked down the street. Crystals resonated and chimed softly in the small gardens tucked into building courtyards. The air was warm but not hot, and the walkway uncrowded.
A couple blocks further and Jazz had his attention grabbed by a nice, cozy looking cafe promising energon treats and quality energon and stimulant blends. Deciding to try his luck, Jazz went in. The barista was incredibly pleasant and sold Jazz on the house special — a bitter frothed energon blend — and a large type of energon goodie dusted with mica flakes and filled with a sweet mineral paste.
This was much better than sitting alone in his hotel.
Jazz occupied himself with people watching and enjoying the cafe’s mellow music playing quietly from unobtrusive speakers for the next joor. He made a game of coming up with silly stories for mechs he didn’t know, or legit trying to guess their occupation from appearances alone.
After that first joor, he noticed the one customer that had been there before him, and was still seated in a back corner. He hadn’t moved much, but server’s had come and gone from his table regularly.
The mech was black and white with a gleaming red chevron, wide doorwings, and a truly impressive bumper. He’d even be kind of handsome, Jazz thought, if he didn’t look so sour faced. The mech must have been working on something though, all his attention seemed focused on his datapad.
Next to his elbow, there was a small stack of empty snack plates and two empty cubes precariously stacked on those with his current one forgotten and probably grown cold if the sadly deflated whip on top was anything to go by. Jazz’s first impression was that the mech was an enforcer, the frametype was a match, and so was the patterning of his paint.
No visible decals though.
Curiosity peaked, Jazz watched the mech for another couple breems, watching as digits worked quickly one moment, then stilled the next. He didn’t know why, but it was sort of endearing to watch. That’s what inspired him to approach the mech before he left the cafe.
“Hiya there, designation’s Jazz, seen ya over here working hard and ya got me curious, wan’ed ta come introduce myself. See what ya were up to, if ya don’ mind sharin’ that is.” Jazz said with his best winning smile. Orion said it made him look suspicious, but Jazz had never had a mech rebuff him after seeing The Smile, so Orion clearly just had no taste.
The mech didn’t respond at all and Jazz’s smile almost faltered briefly, but he pushed on. “Anyway, I —”
“No.” said the mech, not moving his optics away from his work.
Jazz was honestly a little stunned. “Sorry, what?”
“No, I do not want to discuss my work with you.” said the mech sharply, he hadn’t even looked up at Jazz once.
“Okay okay, ’s cool mech! I didn’ mean ta bother ya, was jus’ tryin’ t’ be friendly, ya know? It’s been a while since I was in town and all my friends are busy, wan’ed to make a new one’s all.” said Jazz, hands up in surrender and tone light, easy smile still in place. Yikes, what a tough crowd…
“I do not have the time for social interactions right now. I am on a deadline, so please, for the love of Primus, go find your entertainment elsewhere.” said the mech, a small frown starting to crease his brow.
Now that, that had no right to be so attractive! The mech was being pretty blunt, but he hadn’t said never, he’d said not right now .
“Okay, I’ll leave ya be then, but could I at least get a designation? Seein’ as you know mine now.” Jazz asked as innocently as possible. It took the mech so long to reply, busy furiously typing away again, that Jazz thought maybe he was being ignored. Sighing quietly through his vents, Jazz was just about to turn and go back to his hotel when the other mech answered.
“My designation is Prowl. I am in the middle of completing some consultation work, and would very much appreciate it if you left me be, so that I may finish quickly.”
Prowl, huh, fitting. The mech was built strong, looked like he was designed for endurance and pursuit. Jazz’s smile was wide and genuine.
“Ah! So you’re more than just a sour face after all. Well, was nice meetin’ you, Prowl! Hope to see you around!” said Jazz as he waved casually, and then left to go back to his hotel.
Tonight was a bust, but not a total one, Prowl was interesting, and honestly, Jazz liked a challenge. He’d come back tomorrow, if he was lucky, the mech would be back and he could try again.
◈❖◈
The next time that Jazz met Prowl, it wasn’t at the cafe. He had just been leaving the convention center, when he caught a familiar frame talking to one of the day’s featured speakers, Scrapper. They looked to be enjoying whatever discussion they were having, and Jazz couldn’t help but think that the mech was much more handsome when he was relaxed and smiling a little. Deciding to take a chance, Jazz went over to the two of them.
“Hey, Scrapper! Nice presentation today, I really liked the sections on new alloys and structural integrity in artistically designed structures. Hi ta you too, Prowl, I didn’ know you two were buddies!”
Scrapper looked up and waved as he came up to the pair, Prowl’s expression didn't show anything, but his doorwings flicked curiosity.
“Hey, Jazz, you better make sure those archivists get our names recorded right this time. Scavenger is still moping because people call him “Scourerger” after that bit from the last Crystal City summer festival.” said Scrapper sounding mildly exasperated, but looking amused.
“Really? I’ll get Orion to take a look at for you. Must have been a newbie doin’ the recordin’.” replied Jazz easily, then he turned his attention to Prowl. “Good to see you again mech, tried to catch you at the cafe again, but no luck, what’cha doin’ here though? I didn’t see your designation on the presentation itinerary.”
Shifting his weight to one leg and raising an arm in a dismissive gesture, Prowl answered, “I am not presenting, but I’m currently on my off cycle and had business with Scrapper. There were some interesting presentations scheduled too, so I decided to combine my objectives.”
Apparently Scrapper thought this was funny, given the genuine laugh Prowl’s answer pulled out of him. “Oh, yeah, I know he probably doesn’t look it, but Prowl here was an engineer, real upcoming star, in his younger days at least. Back before he decided that being an enforcer was more his speed. He still does consultations once in a while though, that’s what we were talking about before you showed up actually.”
Jazz was impressed, mech was an enforcer after all – where were his decals??? – and apparently a bit of a workaholic. Jeez, Jazz couldn’t imagine being a full time enforcer and an engineer as a side hustle. Jazz being a cultural investigator and (sometimes) a musician didn’t count! That was work and play that he sometimes got paid for if the cover made it easier to do his job. Totally different.
“Well, if you mechs are talking business I can scram. Unless you wanna go grab a late midcycle cube and chat some more? Old Trion’d prob’ly appreciate it if you’re willing to give a little interview to go with the file they’ll be making for today’s presentations.” said Jazz, looking between his current company.
Prowl was already shaking his helm in the negative though. “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay much longer. My off cycle will be over in a few joors and I have to get back to my hab before going to the station for my shift. We don’t have time to entertain this mech and finish discussing business, Scrapper.”
The big mech looked down sheepishly and rubbed his neck with one hand. “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that boss, know you’re busy. We’re pretty much done though, I like your suggestions so far, but could you maybe try and find a way to make that weird mega window feature the customer wants more inline with their requirements? I know it’s an absolutely ridiculous shape, but if anyone can find a way to make that monstrosity structurally sound it’s definitely you. ”
Prowl nodded sharply. “Yes, I can. Is it alright if I give it to you at the end of the decacycle?”
“Yeah yeah, no problem, the client can wait that long, there’s other work they’ve approved that we can start on before we get to that anyway.” shrugged Scrapper.
Deciding it was time to move on and let these mechs finish their business, Jazz said, “Well, this has been nice, but I better get back and do my own work, n’ let you guys finish up too. I just have a quick question, Prowl, wanna meet up at that cafe and get a cube some time?”
“No.”
◈❖◈
Jazz ran into Prowl on and off over the rest of the decacycle. Sometimes at the convention, sometimes pulling over and ticketing a driver breaking speed limits. Prowl was slow to thaw, but Jazz was kind of charmed. So he took every opportunity to visit before he had to return to Iacon and give Alpha Trion his report.
After all, all things have their season and this one was just about coming to an end. That didn’t mean he couldn’t make an effort to make an impression on Prowl before then. Hopefully it would stick and Jazz would have one more friend to visit next time he was in Praxus.
◈❖◈
It had been a long decacycle. First with the normal paperwork of an enforcer, then the engineering convention, and finally the blueprints he still needed to finalize his notes on to send back to Scrapper. So when Prowl finally rolled up to one of his favourite cafe’s he sagged on his wheels in relief, then transformed and stretched his stiff joints to enter the cozy space. Walking up to the counter, Prowl smiled tiredly at the cashier and checked the menu to see if they’d added anything new lately.
“Hello! Welcome to Fractal Cafe, how can we help you today?” asked the cashier in a friendly tone. Prowl knew what he wanted already, and ordered his stimulant blend with a double shot and extra processing. It might knock another mech flat, but Prowl’s processors required a lot of high energy fuel, so this was actually a perfect way to make sure he was booted up as fast as possible.
Transferring the credits for his order – which ended up including one of their locally famous goodies – Prowl found his way to his usual corner and sat, looking idly out the window and watching the few people out this early during the cycle.
The server was just finishing up Prowl’s order and about to bring it over to him, it was at this point things started to go so very wrong. He tried to console himself with the knowledge that anyone might not have suspected anything.
He saw Jazz walk into the cafe and spot him and his approaching order. Prowl’s spark did a neat little trick at the sight of the mech who had become a surprisingly interesting new acquaintance over the course of his time in Praxus. He saw Jazz’s helm tilt and his visitor sparkle. He watched as Jazz walked with long smooth strides towards Prowl’s table. He was just going to greet Jazz who had arrived at the same time as his hot cube of stimulant.
Then Prowl’s cube was plucked from his outstretched hand before he knew it and he watched, stunned speechless, as Jazz grinned and gave a cheeky salute with his free hand. After which he downed Prowl’s cue while making full optic contact.
“Thanks for the treat, Prowler! See you ‘round mech!” said Jazz, spinning on a heel and dashing to the door, laughing the whole while.
Prowl was furious. Normally, getting this worked up over something so small was beneath him. But this cretin stole. his. stimulants.
Before Prowl even really registered what was happening, he was out of his seat, engine snarling as he sprinted off after that annoying little tourist! That deplorable little thief! His sirens were blaring and lights flashing before the wheels of his altmode had hit the pavement spinning like mad, and then he was launching himself after that no good little speedster.
He could hear Jazz laughing ahead of him, loud and boisterous, incredibly pleased with himself and his mischief. Well, Prowl would just have to make sure that he knew mischief was a crime punishable by law. Gunning his engines and going as fast as he could while still avoiding uninvolved civilian traffic, Prowl did his damnedest to catch the annoying stimulant thief.
If he was also feeling some kind of something that made his spark feel funny as the chase wore on, that was no one’s business but his own. Prowl was going to make sure that dirty little thief went home with a scuffed bumper anyway.