This fic was spawned thanks to several people and their amazingly magnificent and bunny-inducing crossover fics. Namely Chapter 6 of CasusFere's Through Fire and Flame where there was a spectacular mushing of Alien and Transformers and Stormy1x2's Unlikely Partners, a absolutely fantastic TMNT/Transformers fanfic.
So really, this is what my mind spewed forth when provided with these wondrous pieces as examples and sorry if it ends up being lower quality. The bunny bit me and it's 4 am and I just really want to hit the sack now. Gah. At least it's a weekend!
The pairings (except for the ones mentioned) are pretty much up for grabs at the moment because I'm not really sure where I'm going to be going with this so...I've only got really vague ideas, which means this story's updating is going to be sketchy at best. I'm sorry for that, but I hope you'll still get at least a little enjoyment from it.
Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.
When Prowl had let Jazz convince him to take the night off, he had been under the impression that the impromptu break had been for something hot, steamy, and decidedly CPU-numbingly enjoyable.
Instead it was all about stars.
Prowl spared another nanosecond to curse the damned little balls of gas that dared, as only unholy creations of distracting evil could do, sidetrack his lover from the love that they should, by all rights and deviously vacant-of-any-other-Autbot area demanded, be making right now.
"They sure are pretty, huh Prowler?" Jazz sighed softly, his intakes brushing a breeze across Prowl's shoulder strut that he was leaning against. The soft puff of air was warmer than the cool night air around them after having been circulated throughout the mech's body and Prowl could feel it ghost lightly over his doorwings. He was unable to completely stop the reflexive flutter—the stimulus was a pleasant one, even more so when following on the heels of his previous train of thought.
"Yes—I've always found distant flaming orbs of gas that could, and most likely have already, burst in upon themselves and died out over thousands of years ago extremely relaxing. Really perks up my mood when I'm feeling down, it does." Prowl replied with just a slight undercurrent of cynicism.
Jazz laughed softly, the air once again reducing Prowl to a small shiver, "Pfft. Some romantic you are."
"If you wanted a romantic mech, you should've seduced Mirage instead. I'm sure he'd be quite able to wax poetic for you." Prowl said dryly. A slight breeze flew up from the wide meadow before them and Prowl absentmindedly bent a wing over the saboteur at his side, slightly shielding the smaller mech from the cold wind.
"Because Mirage is absolutely everything I've ever wanted in a bot." Jazz agreed, smile clear in his voice. If Prowl had any lingering doubts about their relationship enough to be any kind of jealous over that statement, they were immediately crushed to tiny little pieces as the other black and white snuggled more firmly into his side, tucking himself under Prowl's arm and snaking his own arms around Prowl's middle. Prowl's lips flickered up at the motion and he shifted to make room, laying his arm across the saboteur's shoulders and settling against the snuggling bot that was currently draped over his side.
"Of course! He's rich, good looking, occasionally socially adept…" Prowl drawled into the comfortable silence.
"Not to mention the partner of a very possessive mech who would just as soon skin me alive then let me look twice at his bond-mate." Jazz sniggered into Prowl's chest.
"If you had skin, anyway. And it is surprising how riled up Hound can get about Mirage…" Prowl agreed, leaning back slightly to better stare up at the current sparkling banes of his existence. How the slag did the human's even see a belt better yet the whole man in those blasted pinpricks of evil?
"Not as surprising as Inferno is about Red Alert. The twins were only lucky Ratchet was there that one time they fried Red's circuits enough that he offlined from the stress. Inferno looked like he was going to rip them a new one. Or two. Repeatedly." Jazz chimed, also focusing his optics on the sky. He always loved finding the different animals arranged by the stars, and he spared a small moment of joy as he could just make out Taurus from his position.
Prowl snorted, "It did keep them in line for the next couple of joors, though. Especially once they heard about the whole Starscream fiasco. I think it's the only time I've ever seen either of them look guilty for anything. Particularly anything that was their fault."
"That was a definite added bonus," Jazz agreed, "Plus, Red needed to take a vacation anyway. He deserved some time off."
"Speaking of time off, Jazz…" Prowl trailed off, CPU giving up on making any sense of the mass of unconnecting and uncooperative dots of pure undiluted sparkly malevolence above him. Training his optics on the grinning mech that was now practically in his lap, Prowl glared lightly.
Jazz's grin continued to grow as he twisted his head up to meet the tactician's optics, "Yes? What about it?"
"We seem to have found ourselves with a considerable amount of it on our hands," The tactician said, sliding down on his back into the grass, careful to splay his doorwings to either side of his chassis and not to pinch any of the sensitive wiring. He kept a tight hold on Jazz via the arm he still had over the saboteur's shoulders, dragging the still grinning mech down with him.
"We have, haven't we? But we're in such a secluded space with no other mechs around for about a thirty mile radius! What can we possibly find to do all by our lonesomes?" Jazz purred as he cuddled against the side he was pressed against, nuzzling into the wing he was lightly using as a pillow and throwing a leg haphazardly over the tactician's waist, all but spray-painting himself onto his partner's chassis.
"Oh, I'm sure we can think of a few things." Prowl rumbled, running a finger down one of the sensory horns on Jazz's helmet. The saboteur let out a slight gasp before suddenly surging up and sealing his lips over the smirking ones of his partner.
"No fair." Jazz grumbled against Prowl's lips as they broke apart, resting more on top of Prowl now rather than just against him.
"If you get to tease my wings with poorly disguised breathy little whispers then I get full horn caressing privileges." Prowl responded, smirking.
"I don't remember agreeing to anything like that." Jazz commented wryly, tucking his head underneath Prowl's chin, nipping lightly at the tactician's neck before cuddling in more.
"Not my fault you have faulty memory banks." Prowl said, wrapping his arms around the bot currently using him as an oversized and under-stuffed earthian teddy bear. Jazz made some noncommittal sound and only snuggled in deeper. Prowl let a true smile tug at his lips at the movement and glanced down at the bot in his arms, optics offline and simply relaxing in his embrace.
Deciding to take a page out of the saboteur's book and relax a bit, Prowl took one more glance at the sky before he intended to temporarily offline his own optics.
Which was unfortunately the exact second that something decided to fall from the sky and make a decent towards the earth. Battle computer running the math and noting that the velocity and temperature of the oncoming object indicated that it was indeed hurtling down through the atmosphere and that it would crash-land within the next few breems, Prowl shook Jazz off of him and quickly stood up, wide optics trained on the glowing red piece of something that was slowly and steadily getting bigger with every astrosecond.
"Wa…? Prowler? What's tha'matter?" Jazz asked, his brief almost nap causing his accent to thicken. Prowl spared a moment to consider how adorable it made the saboteur before focusing on the matter at hand.
"There's…something's falling from the sky." Prowl said, optics once again training on the object. He quickly ran a few more equations and was both surprised and a little unnerved at the fact that the object had not only managed to reduce its speed but had also changed its course.
And was now aiming at them.
"What, like a falling star or somethin'?" Jazz asked before turning around and following his partner's gaze. His mouth fell open in a silent 'oh' as his optics grew wide behind his visor as the approaching ball of flame grew larger and larger as it slowly approached their resting place.
"I think it's safe to say that this is most defiantly an 'or something.' My guess is that it's some sort of spacecraft. One that's obviously out of control." Prowl replied softly. Though it had been initially somehow able to slow its descent, the supposed ship in question no longer appeared to hold that skill and was currently picking up speed once again—though now at a level where its impact would be fairly small for something that seemed to be turning out to be rather large.
"I'm not getting any readings off of it. It's not registering as either Autobot or Decepticon. Any idea what it is?" Jazz asked, now fully alert and beginning to coherently assess the situation.
"No idea. Though it looks like it's headed our way." Prowl added, though neither he nor the saboteur moved from their spot. Prowl figured that if the inhabitants of the ship had been able to slow their decent then they must have been able to set a course as well. Surely they would aim for the overwhelmingly large meadow rather than then for the small grassy mound hedged in on three sides by huge forest trees where the two mechs were standing. Whether they be friends or enemies, no one was idiotic enough to endanger their own lives by aiming so close to the forest line and risking impacting the trees in their landing.
"Call for backup?" Jazz asked, already reaching for his com-unit.
"Call for backup." Prowl confirmed. Jazz flipped open his communicator, quickly informing a terse Red Alert of the situation and after a brief "Proceed with caution and above all just please be careful, you two." from the security director along with assurances that they'd be there in a few breems, he turned back to Prowl expectantly.
"What?" the tactician reproached with an arched optic ridge at the saboteur's expectant look.
"What do we do now, oh Second in Command?" Jazz questioned, smirking and leaning on one hip teasingly.
"Nothing much to do but wait, you little glitch." Prowl responded, lips quirking up again.
Not that the wait was long. In less than another breem the ship landed, as Prowl had thought, in the spacious meadow, scorching the earth with an audio-fritzing bang and blowing steam everywhere as rapidly cooling metal impacted damp earth in a dizzying slide of crunching metal against mushy soil, the resulting skid mark left by something that would have to have been at least the size of the Ark.
Waving their hands to try and dispense some of the steam that obscured their vision, Prowl and Jazz hacked at their intakes, trying to dispel the smoke they had unintentionally taken in while hoping that the ringing in their audios was only temporary and wouldn't require a visit to the Hatchet's med-bay.
"Well…" Jazz coughed as the steam finally began to clear and he could once again see his fellow black and white mech.
"Well." Prowl agreed, his intakes giving one more sputter before clearing out the last of the noxious fumes.
"Shall we go play CSI, then?" Jazz asked, grinning at Prowl's put upon look. Ever since they managed to hotwire their TV to get basic cable, Jazz had immediately become obsessed with the show. Mostly just for the absurd plot twists and completely random clues, but at times the show could be amazingly informative about the underbelly of human society and Jazz was a saboteur through and through, this stuff was of the kind of things he needed to know—it was research! Argument made and frustratingly won against his mate's wishes, Jazz had even roped Prowl into watching a few episodes. Though the tactician couldn't help but point out every small mistake and obscure inconsistency and Jazz was quick to learn that perhaps forcing Prowl into something wasn't always the best idea when Jazz still wanted to enjoy that something.
So even though Prowl might not have approved of the term used to indicate their looking into the crash-landed ship, he nonetheless just settled for rolling his optics at the saboteur before leading the way into the still warm creator left at the end of the gigantic scar that cut it's way across the field.
Steam was still rising from the outside metallic layer of the ship, but still Prowl was able to recognize that the ship before him was one that he didn't really recognize. There were symbols covering the outside, but none even slightly resembled a language he could ever hope to have known how to read.
"Hey, Prowl…are you getting anything?" Jazz called over from a little ways to his right. The Porsche was also gazing at the symbols etched onto the side of the ship and seemed to be coming to the same lack of conclusions that Prowl was.
"Not a thing. I've never seen anything like this before…" Prowl said, lifting one hand up to scratch at a patch of dirt covering what appeared to be a intricate picture of a blue box. Though it was painfully obvious that the ship was in dire need of repair with panels missing here and there and gouges dug alarmingly deep into the mud and rust encrusted surface, the symbols on the outside of the ship were still surprisingly vibrant and unmarred. It spoke of great skill and Prowl could only wonder at the species that would put so much time and effort into the outside of a ship that would almost undoubtedly be systematically destroyed throughout its years of use.
"It's really quite beautiful, though." Jazz said as he came up to him. Prowl nodded his head in agreement, focusing more on the picture of the cube. It was the only geometrical object that Prowl could see and he could only wonder at the significance. Most of the other symbols on the ship were just squiggles and vague formations of lines, none as precise as this cube seemed to be.
"I wonder…" Prowl mused out loud. Optics focused on the tactician, Jazz could only shrug to himself at what Prowl might be talking about and kept silent. Not expecting any response, the tactician pressed lightly on the cube. When nothing happened, he pressed a bit harder until, with a groan of resisting metal, the cube disappeared into the ship. Stepping back and dragging Prowl a bit away as well, Jazz could only stare with wide optics as a previously inconspicuous panel slowly lowered itself towards the ground, the resulting opening flooding with residual steam from abused and partially melted gears forced into action.
If that was a shocker, however, the being that slowly limped painfully down the ramp was the mother of all surprises.
Prowl's battle computer had a second to comprehend that what he was seeing he couldn't possibly be seeing before, in a necessary act of saving itself from self-induced self-destruction, it shut down and regulated all necessary systems back to Prowl's CPU, leaving the tactician online though temporarily unable to either think or comprehend as quickly as usual.
Not that he was doing much of either, anyway. No, apparently staring at the creature slack-jawed and wide-opticed was the favored method of greeting at the moment.
Jazz had seen a lot of aliens. So had Prowl. But even then it couldn't prepare them for what was slowly reveled as the smoke drifted away. As Prowl's battle computer up and left him, Jazz reached to steady him as the tactician stumbled a bit though he couldn't tear his optics away from the creature stepping towards them on four very unsteady hooves.
Four very unsteady blue hooves. The only thing Jazz could think of was that this certainly ain't no cow. Rather it reminded him of those mythical or mystical or whatever creatures that Earthians called 'centaurs.' Except he somewhat recalled reading that centaurs weren't ever recorded to have been blue and that most were especially thought to have noses rather than just two sets of three vertical slits. Not to mention the eyes. Yes, he clearly and distinctly remembered that it had to have been mentioned somewhere that centaurs only had two eyes—not four, two of them perched on weird antenna thingies. That moved.
Not to mention the, y'know, fact that it didn't have a freaking mouth.
But what really freaked the two mechs out was the positively wicked looking blade toping the thing's muscular tail and that, despite the fact they had freaking laser weapons in their subspace and even though it was hanging listlessly, still worried them enough in that it looked like it could do an alarmingly fair amount of damage to even their metal plates.
"Wha—what—huh?!" Jazz stuttered out, leaning down to gaze at the creature while still keeping a very safe distance.
The centaur-thing stumbled a bit and Jazz winced as he noticed the dried purplish liquid covering most of the creature's body. Leaky fluids, whatever the species, was never a good sign.
/Where…where is this? Did we get away?/ The voice drifted through his processor and Jazz reeled back as a thought that wasn't his floated through what he had previously thought to be territory reserved exclusively by his own (and occasionally Prowl's) thoughts.
"What the slag was that?!" Jazz screamed scrambling away from the unsteady thing. Prowl was right behind him, shaking his helm back and forth as if trying to physically force the intrusive thoughts from his head. Jazz, noticing the movement, noted that he wasn't the only one hearing voices. Which meant that he wasn't the only crazy one here, at least.
/I am sorry./ And there it was again! It was like an internal communication line only with a distant hum that made it all the more surprising and personally invasive. Jazz and Prowl locked optics before resuming their mad scramble away from the pit-slagged ship and the blue-whatever-centaur-thing, aiming for the lip of the crater with thoughts of just waiting for backup to arrive before even attempting to look back down here.
/Please wait! I didn't mean to scare you! I forgot that this might seem unusual to some people, it's been such a long time since I've been in control… / the voice in his bloody head paused for a second before continuing, and Jazz halted a bit, catching Prowl's arm as a desperate note, despite being thought rather than said, rang throughout the creature's statement /It's just that my…companions need help, the fight was a bad one./
"Jazz…" Prowl growled. Even with his battle computer off on a little vacation of its own he could still easily read the saboteur next to him. He was actually thinking about going back and helping whatever that was.
"Come on, Prowl. If there's injured we've got to help." The visored mech replied. Not even threats of scary mind-reading aliens warranted that someone (or something) should die for no reason. Prowl, glowering at his mate, reluctantly nodded and the relatively calm mechs made their way cautiously back down the wall of the crater they had just scrambled up, stopping well enough away from the blue alien and his ship.
/Thank you./ the thing before them mind-spoke and Jazz and Prowl couldn't hold back the wince at the invasion once again. It was reminiscence of their internal communications, true, but it was still foreign enough to provoke serious feelings of distrust and unease. Prowl immediately went to work on constructing firewalls to cover all his sensitive information, he didn't know how far that thing could read into his head and if this all was just some kind of new Decepticon trick he certainly didn't want to make anything overly easy for them.
"Ri—right." Jazz said unsteadily, still unmoving. And then, even though it didn't have a bloody mouth, the creature managed to smile, and staggered a little to the side, leaving a clear path to the ramp in indication that the injured must still be inside the ship.
:This cannot be a good idea.: Prowl deprecatingly said over an extremely secure inner communication line.
:Backup's on the way, right? I'll just go in, get the injured out, and then we can wait for Ratchet to take a look at 'em. Stay out here, just in case though, yes?: Jazz said before squaring his shoulders and taking small steps towards the ship, not giving Prowl any chance to object to his plan. Steadily (yet slowly) making his way towards the opening, he gave the watching alien a wide berth before stepping up the ramp and disappearing into the interior of the ship.
Prowl watched the blue creature warily, waiting for it to make any wrong move and to unsubspace his gun should his lover need any help. When Jazz didn't immediately reappear at the exit, Prowl could only assume that he must have had to go farther into the ship to find these so-called "injured comrades."
Or he was currently being captured and killed at this very moment by this thing's allies. Desperate to think of anything other than the possibility of this really just being some elaborate trap and that Jazz could be lying in a pool of his own energon at this very moment, Prowl turned his attention towards the greatest distraction he could find. Locking optic to eyes (the bottom two anyway, Prowl was trying his hardest to temporarily ignore the other two that kept twisting to look any which way on those stalk things) Prowl voiced the his most prominent questions, "So who are you? Rather, what are you?"
Gathering all four of his feet underneath him (Prowl had a second to bemusedly catch that he was standing at attention) the centaur-thing replied via the disturbing and rather obtrusive inner communications frequency that, for some reason, this organic was somehow taping into /My name's…well, just call me Ax. I'm an Andalite./
'Huh,' Prowl thought, 'that's a new one.'
Copout ending? Whatever do you mean? Right...I'm sure you've gotten that I've done the weirdest thing ever and mixed Transformers with Animorphs of all things. Honestly, I think my friend is going to disown me for this one. If anyone's interested in timelines, Transformers is G1 and Animorphs is going to take off from the ending of the last book. I'm a little rusty with Animorphs, though, so I beg you to bear with me and my seemingly n00bish mistakes that I might be prone to making. And as for Animorphs pairings? Also up in the air. Any suggestions would be welcome, actually.
Thank you for reading and it would mean the world to me if you would be so kind as to leave me a review. Constructive criticism, as ever, is always more than welcome.