Recon's Verse. Autobot HQ. One is the Loneliest Number.

[ssjmihoshi.livejournal.com]

The day after Valentine's, back at Autobot HQ
Jazz: *arm around a slightly tipsy Bumblebee as he steers the doggybag-bearing young bot toward Optimus' office* Man, I didn' expect ya ta eat that much...

Bumblebee: *beeps and whirs in a happy haze as he's steered* Worth every cred. ^____^

Jazz: Yeah, well, OP's gonna roll his eyes at me for lettin' you get like this. *stops in front of the office door and experimentally takes his arm away to see if Bee will stay upright* What're you gonna do with that box of extras?

Bumblebee: *wavers, but stays mostly upright* Some for me, some for Sam. *will hold up the bag so Jazz can admire the various aromas*

Jazz: *slight doubletake away from the door he was just going to knock on* You got human fuel in there with ours?

Bumblebee: *small hazy concern as he peeks in the bag* Yeah... Nem' said she packed it good...

Jazz: Well, I guess she knows what she's doin'. But what about me? I paid for that stuff, 'n I don't even get a cookie?

Bumblebee: *beeps in apology* Here... *reaches in to grab something, not paying attention to his feet* *distress deedle as he stumbles!*

Jazz: *grabs the youngster* Easy, man. *knocks on the office door with his elbow, thinking to get Bumblebee sitting in one of those nice chairs in the Prime's office*

Bumblebee: *grins and plays a happy song about best friends*

Optimus: *sets down his datapad, smirking at the noise outside* Come in.

Jazz: *manages to use the same elbow to hit the door release, and then steers Bumblebee inside* Hey, OP, what'snoo witchoo? *grins*

Optimus: *hint of mischief in his tired voice* I have been admiring your colorful organic gift, Jazz.

Jazz: *had forgotten all about the roses he'd gotten for Recon. Blink blink, then grin* Glad ya like 'em, Optimus.

Bumblebee: *slagged smile, waves at Prime*

Optimus: *looks over Bumblebee* I see you two have been thoroughly enjoying the holiday.

Jazz: Actually, I lent him my credit card while I want ta talk to a Servant of Primus. *sees if he can't settle Bumblebee into one of those comfy chairs*

Bumblebee: *will gladly sit and inhale the aromas, making happy deedling noises*

Optimus: *sobers at the title. Another of his troop has found the Nexus. Pushes the rest of his paperwork aside* Jazz, you know you should tell me about any problems...

Jazz: *suddenly serious. Quietly* You got your own problems, man. You don't need my emo slag.

Optimus: *takes on a well-practiced paternal sternness* We don't have the luxury of hiding ourselves out here. What affects my troops affects me.

Jazz: *leans his elbows on the desk and gives a slightly tired but cheeky grin* I set up an appointment for you later this week.

Optimus: *measured surprise* For me? *wonders what Jazz is trying to convince him of this time*

Jazz: Yeah. *intakes* *quietly* I actually got ta hear from Primus. And I think it'd do you some good, too.

Optimus: *sobered again, but still guarded* What is this about, Jazz?

Jazz: *shrugs a shoulder, though his aspect cheers* I found a way ta get new sparks when I was there. A couple ways.

Optimus: *optics widen in interest. This concern had been brought to him before from several bots* And how is that?

Jazz: *pulls a human size wine bottle out of his storage space and sets it on the desk* One way is for somebody ta intake this somehow. It'll make a whole new bot that shares their code, but ain't a clone.

Optimus: *carefully picks up the bottle and scans it* *hmms contemplatively* Sharing code? That may prove to be a bit too... intimate for some of us. *the chance is too tempting to pass up entirely though. He sets the bottle down and looks up again* And the other way?

Jazz: *shrugs* I've met two kids with my code in 'em now. It wasn't as freaky as it sounds. *back to business* Other way is the bartender at the Black Dog'll make us some new sparks, but we gotta supply our own protoforms 'n programmin'.

Optimus: *another amused optic ridge raise* Children from other dimensions, I hope? *still hasn't quite gotten used to the idea* Wheeljack has mentioned an idea for creating protoforms capable of sustaining sparks...

Jazz: Actually, both of 'em live in the Nexus, but yeah, their people're from other realities. *wry expression* We don't need walkin' bombs, OP. 'Hide's bad enough when he drinks that cheap gas.

Bumblebee: *chuckles*

Optimus: *laughs* When he refines his theory Ratchet will supervise. Right now we need to consider all the possibilities.

Jazz: Right, and that Servant of Primus is also an engineer. *takes the bottle of LOL water and plays with it absently* Or her partner is, or somethin'. I didn't really understand that part. Somebody there can build protoforms.

Optimus: *leans back in his chair and muses before stating* Jazz, I want you to lock that away for now.

Jazz: *looks up quickly, his visor dropping nearly fast enough to hide the sadness and longing in his optics* Why?

Optimus: *doesn't like having to remind him* We are still in a war, my friend. We do not have the resources or mechpower to support younglings right now. Or train them properly. Many of us have taken the loss of the Allspark badly, and if they knew such a thing was possible... I fear their decisions would be rash.

Jazz: *glances at Bumblebee, and then pings Optimus' private channel*

Optimus: *answers the ping*

Jazz: //Alright. You wanted ta know what was buggin' me. Well I've fussed at 'Hide, Ratchet, Longarm, 'n the others till they're all #@$#@#$@# off at me, and my spark's so needy fer somethin' ta love that my bond with Conny's gettin' too deep, too.// *scowls at the bottle* //I'm still melted around the edges of the hole that Ironfist used ta fill.//

Optimus: *ah, that would explain his recent behavior* //I see.// *thoughts turn to his own bond with Elita* //Our bonds may be a weakness, but they can also be a strength.//

Jazz: *optics still on the bottle* //I could leave the kid at the Sanctuary. Their older half brother could help train 'em up.//

Optimus: //Jazz, if you're that desperate a platoon of Decepticons couldn't keep you from that child.// *small smirk* //Care for the bots you already have.//

Jazz: *looks up at Optimus, expression inscrutable behind his visor* Whaddya mean?

Bumblebee: *looks up at the question, startled from his own thoughts*

Optimus: *optics full of support, he is speaking from experience* If we don't take care of each other now, we won't be there when it comes time for the next generation. //I assume your behavior means this bond problem isn't entirely on your end.//

Jazz: //Like I said. My tryin' ta take care'a people's just slaggin' them off. Or scarin' the #@$@# outta 'em, in Conny's case.// *which kind of answers that last statement*

Optimus: *hmms again and looks down, idly playing with the flowers* //Recon is a headstrong soldier, but she becomes attached too easily. With so many of us offline that would scare anybot.//

Jazz: *wry twist of his mouth* *quietly* //Yeah. She's a lot like me. So your rulin' is 'no'?//

Optimus: That's not what I said. *leans back in his chair again* Taking away or dictating interpersonal relations would undermine the freedom we all fight so hard for. And, *the small smirk returns* I can no more tell you who to hang around than I can tell you to stop listening to that obnoxious static you and Blaster call music.

Jazz: *chuckle gets away from him before he can stop it*

Optimus: *ponders the roses again, wondering if there's a way for him to forward them to Recon* If you wish I can talk to her for you.

Jazz: *seriousness returns in a flash* No. I made my bid. I ain't gonna talk about it again. *drops his gaze back to the bottle*

Optimus: Very well. *returns to a business tone* You've done some fine work, Jazz. After my... appointment we'll discuss your findings with the rest of the senior officers.

Jazz: *sighs and pushes the bottle toward him* Alright. Better get rid 'a this.

Optimus: *glad he decided not to keep it. His tone is supportive as he takes the bottle and pats Jazz on the shoulder* I'll keep it in a safe place. Now, get Bumblebee back to his quarters. He's falling into stasis.

Bumblebee: *whines in protest. No, he's not asleep, just shuttering his optics!*

Jazz: *seriously* No. Get rid 'a it. Or I'll do somethin' you'll bust me for. *turns to urge the young scout out of his chair, his tone turning back to his usual laughter and chat*

Optimus: *stands with him, putting the bottle into his own personal subspace while Jazz isn't looking. He'll give it back during his appointment*

Bumblebee: *more protesting chatter. He has things to deliver to Sam, after all*

Jazz: Sam's at school, Bee. What've we told you 'bout buggin' him at school? *laughs and finally gets the younger bot pried out of his chair*

Bumblebee: *beeps sadly, doorwings drooping as he's shuttled into the hall*

Jazz: *teases him and pesters him and gets him tucked into bed. And then goes to find someplace to sit and lock himself away so his longings can't trouble anyone else*

Optimus: *smiles as they leave, and looks up florists in Phoenix to deliver replacement roses*

((Written by ssjmihoshi and random_xtras.))