Ep. 0.5 - Care and Feeding - Closed

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<<This is set...say, very beginning of Month Four?>>

Shadowrunner was very good. She could hack through the average system without a trace, wiping all evidence of her meddling such that the system itself never realized it had been changed.

The observational program that Jazz had installed and buried in the system, of course, silently noticed everything. The only remaining question was...why, exactly, did Shadowrunner like that exact patch of Africa?

Jazz had gone to investigate it when Shadow had been elsewhere on patrol and found nothing of much import except some relatively untouched grasslands and some wary wildlife. Most likely, Shadow just liked it because it was quiet, or she liked the terrain. Which was fine. She was visiting it in her own spare time, after all.

But Jazz was curious. He was still interested in everything about Shadow, at this point. She had, slowly, been opening up to them, drawing closer to the rest of the cohort. Progress, it was being made, and Jazz tried to nudge it along at every opportunity.

Which was why he made it a point to hang out in the Control Room after Shadow had gone off on one of her African adventures. He worked through his to-do list, pruning and tweaking, poking at the security floorplan, continuing his lolcat war with Steeljaw, surfing the 'net, and generally doing roughly a 40/60 mix of work and goofing off. Which, given that he was actually off-duty, Jazz figured was downright generous of him.

Still, he was glad when the 'bridge engaged. He'd depleted his cache of cat macros, after all.

<<Jazz is not on monitor duty, but he is looking like he's probably doing work at one of the consoles. Or was. ;P>>

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Shadow rolled through the ground bridge and came to a dead stop...only for a nanoklik, only long enough for her sensors to register Jazz at the consoles (and he shouldn't be there, she'd checked, just as she always checked the duty roster before she slipped out), but still a far cry from her usual smooth roll from alt to root mode. She had an equally brief, panicky moment of not wanting to transform at all, or to pretend she hadn't seen him and just blow past the console with an absent hello.

Jazz wouldn't believe it for a moment, she knew. He'd call her back, and if he didn't, ignoring Steeljaw would get her a snarky!cat demanding to know what could possibly be more important than greeting her feline overlord. And Jazz, even if he didn't ask her anything now, would wonder and question and dig until the mystery was solved.

Which was why, after that brief hesitation, Shadow transformed and headed straight for Jazz. She still didn't really know how to interact with him, and every approach felt wrong, a misstep and fall just waiting to happen, but a distracted Jazz was, hopefully, a Jazz who wouldn't question the dust and bits of plant matter covering her, or notice the traces of animal fur that clung to her hands and chassis.

"I didn't think you had monitors this shift," she said. A quick smile and flash of amusement, both tinged with the hope that he'd accept her teasing. "You get busted? Or just lose a bet with our revered ceiling cat?"

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Jazz would throw a party the day that Shadow saw him coming and he DIDN'T hear that telltale hitch in her systems: the kneejerk "oh crap, it's Jazz, what have I done wrong/what does he want/he's probably going to be upset with me for some reason" reaction. That would be a day for true rejoicing.

Jazz had accepted that he was not Ironhide in Shadow's mind--not safe, not cohort in the same way--but hey, he could dream...and inch forward. Thus, here he was...inching.

He turned in his chair to smile at Shadow, pushing welcome longwave to her, then amusement at her words and a shade of delight at the teasing's very existence. It was a small victory in and of itself, after all.

He pressed a mock-scandalized hand to his chestplates. "Busted? Pray tell, doing what? Everyone knows that I am a shining example of a regulation-abiding Autobot. See? Here I am, working!" He let his hand flop, then flap. "Well...kinda. Mostly I was looking up more cat macros."

He tilted his head at Shadow, his field sliding gently into interest and inquiry as he noticed the state of her chassis. Was that FUR? "You look like you had a good time." His glyphs carried a distinct connotation (that he'd learned to put in any time they discussed Shadow enjoying something) of justified/acceptable. His smile widened. "Did you have a nice offshift?"

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"I had fun," Shadow confirmed, smiling with relief at Jazz's amusement. She checked the reflexive desire to lean in towards him, into the approval in his field, and appeased the part of her that equated cohort with physical closeness by settling on the floor beside his chair. "I like this planet. Its diversity."

That, at least, was a perfectly safe like to admit, since they were unlikely to have the option to leave any time soon. And she was beginning to believe she wouldn't discover a sudden change in the duty roster to remind her which of them was in charge.

She was silent for a moment, debating with herself, then she asked, "Why cat macros?"

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"Oh, Steeljaw and I've gotten into a truly ridiculous round of internet memery. We've started coordinating routine things via cat macros. In my defense, he started it." Jazz sniffed. "He never should have replied to a request for shift rearrangement with an 'O RLY??' gif. I mean, come on, that was just asking for it."

Jazz flickered his field against Shadow's in welcome, knee bumping against her side companionably. "You LOOK like you had fun. Or a roll in the turf, at least. There wasn't another mudslide-esque episode, was there?" He flicked a bit of fur out of a seam and grinned. "Or a wildlife attack?"

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Steeljaw meant no further explanation was needed for the macros. Shadow would have said as much, was even prepared to mention the cinematic war the two of them had fallen into - Jaws, working under contract rather than directly under Jazz's command, was another safe topic - but then Jazz flipped the topic straight back to what she had been doing.

Ice in her lines, she forced a laugh. "No mudslides. No attacks. No contraband endangered flowers anywhere on my person." She looked down at all of the organic evidence clinging to her frame. "Though I should still hit the washracks."

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Jazz knew he was pushing. He could hear it in the tiny stutters in Shadow's engine. But he'd noticed a pattern. Whenever he neared a minefield with Shadow, backing off often led to more side-eyeing and skittishness and sometimes outright avoidance than if he pressed on. At first he'd been worried that pressing her was just compounding the problem that Labyrinth had started: sending her mixed messages about boundaries. But there was a point, he realized, where he had to shake himself free from what was "healthy" or "right" and just go with what worked. Get her to trust them, get her comfortable...THEN work on boundaries. Long-term project.

Jazz smiled, squeezing her shoulder once more before standing and stretching his arms over his head. "Sounds good to me! Never hit the 'racks after my own shift, and Ratchet gave me the 'verse's longest lecture on keeping crud out of my joints. Wouldn't want to annoy the medic." He shuddered theatrically. "He might want to scrub me again. And that was NOT as fun as it sounds, let me tell you."

So, in the meantime, he was a pest. Because if there was anything he'd learned, it was that Shadow didn't do best when left to her own devices.


<<Feel free to move them washrack-wards and gloss over some conversation if you want, start it back up at a convenient spot, etc.>>

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Shadow didn't flinch. She had a function-worth of practice in not letting Labyrinth know when she'd rather not be near him; trailing Jazz toward the 'racks and keeping up her half of the conversation was, in comparison, easy.

And Jazz hadn't heard the mudslide story in all of its dubious glory, which gave her an only-slightly-embarrassing distraction. The telling was even, almost, fun.

"Digging the sunrays out of the mud wasn't really so bad. Scrubbing the mud out of our everything afterward is what took forever." Shadow's plates twitched reflexively, and it had nothing to do with the sensation of heated solvent working bits of organic matter from between her seams. "Though thank Primus neither of us got desperate enough to take Rattrap up on his offers to 'help'." Another ripple of motion across her plates, though she managed a slightly bitter smile as she added, "I may have told him just where to cram his tiny servos."

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Jazz's optics and field rolled in exasperation. "You know, I've known a lot of perverts in my time, but Rattrap has elevated it to a new and awe-inspiring artform." He tilted his head to look at Shadow from his spot at the next showerhead. "Obviously I need to put together a refresher training program for the base. The "Sexual Harassment is Bad and Yes I'm Talking to You, Knock It Off, Rattrap" Program has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

Jazz turned into the spray again, looking up sunrays. "So, was the sunray transplantation successful? How're the patients doing?"


<<Jazz is easing into the discussion about Earth nature things to start edging cheetah-ward....>>

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Shadow huffed a little laugh at Jazz's confirmation that the It's Fine To Make Waves By Throwing Rattrap In A Lake rule was still in effect. "You can try. Rhinox seems to think there's not much to do about Rattrap but endure him."

She turned her attention to a tuft of fur stubbornly caught around a rough spur of metal near her hip rotator (Spot had decided that was the very best place to rub against), trying to work it loose without Jazz noticing what she was doing. "Some of the sunrays died right after Rhinox transplanted them, but most of them are doing fine. Blooming again, even." She looked up, optics brightening a little with enthusiasm. "Have you seen Rhinox's garden, yet?"

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"I haven't," Jazz said. "Been on my list, but hasn't happened yet. I definitely need to go see it now, just to get a glimpse of the Infamous Sunrays."

He shook beads of solvent off his visor and very much did notice Shadow not trying to let him notice her working random bits of windlife out of her seams. But, if she was attempting to hide it, she would likely freeze up if he brought attention to it. Much better to ease into the subject. Though somehow his smoove talents were only 50/50 with Shadow.

"It gets your approval as a field trip destination, then?" He smiled at Shadow. "Things've been so hectic that I haven't had time to sightsee much. Figured that I should check out some of the scenery. It's a nice planet."

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"Rhinox is proud of it," Shadow said, which was completely factual and much better than suggesting Jazz might like it, or admitting that she did. "He has a lot more than just sunrays, now. And I think he's trying to attract hummingbirds."

The last bits of fur finally untangled and slid free, allowing her to relax; bits of errant plant life were far easier to explain than evidence she'd been up close and personal with a cheetah. Not that Jazz was likely to know at a glance what kind of animal he was looking for, but...her tanks churned a little at the idea of what he could do if he found out, tension sliding back into her frame.

She glanced sideways at Jazz, voice and field carefully neutral. "I don't think you'd find the garden as interesting as you find the humans, but it's a nice overview of the region. And talking about his plants makes Rhinox happy."

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Jazz nodded amicably. "Always a good reason to visit," he said as he turned off the solvent spray and leaned against the wall. "It's always nice to see things with friends. Especially friends that enjoy those things."

His grin turned self-mocking, his field affectionate and openly curious. "You got any other ideas for places I could visit? Maaaybe some place nice in Africa?" He held up his hands and smiled. "Don't have to share, of course. I'm just being curious. S'like with Rhinox: I like to know what you like."

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Jazz knew.

Jazz knew, and he wasn't angry...wasn't openly angry, which was worse. For long nanokliks, Shadow just stared at him, processor locked on all the things he could do, all the ways he could remind her of her place.

"I'm sorry." The words slipped out reflexively, carrying the vague hope that he would focus on her and not on what she'd been doing. The place was irrelevant, but Spot knew her now, associated her with food and safety in a way she never should have allowed, for both their sakes; the cheetah would put in his usual appearance as soon as he heard her arrive, undeniable proof of how she'd been spending her off-duty time. Shadow shuddered. Organics were so fragile, killing Spot would hardly even count as a lesson...

Except of course it would. The things you cared about were always a weak point. Weak points had to be removed before they could be exploited.

Numbly, she turned off the spray from her own shower; there was still grit scraping under the plating of her forearm where she'd propped herself in the dirt, but that no longer mattered.

"I'm sorry. I know there are better ways I could spend my downtime, but..." She didn't have an excuse. "I like this planet, and there aren't a lot of flat, open spaces without humans. That's all."


<<Assume that her brain essentially replaced "Jazz" with "Labyrinth" somewhere in paragraph 2, with all of the associated field and glyph acrobatics.>>

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Aaaand, there we go, off into the weeds. Shadow's systems had gone into utter spasms. Jazz's spark sank. He hated seeing her this upset. He wished for the millionth time that Labyrinth was alive so Jazz could take a vorn or two to kill him.

"Shadow. Shadow, it's all right. It's ok, hon." Jazz moved in, hands going to her shoulders. "Hey, it's all right. Lookit me, kay? You can spend your off-duty time however you want. It's your time. You can do whatever you want with it. You don't need to be afraid I'll disapprove. M'not gonna punish you, because you haven't done anything wrong. You want to go play, that's FINE. I was just curious because I want to know what you like so I can help you get more of it, yeah?"

He leaned in, touching his helm to hers. "Just want you to be happy, hon. That's all. However you get there, whatever you like is FINE."