Jazzed

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or Transformers. I should think that rather obvious with my college-induced poverty and all.

Warnings: Slight spoilers for the '07 Transformers movie and the Soul Society Arc, Crackish, Dubious humor

AN: Sequel to All That Jazz and Jazz It Up. Dedicated to ZangetsuGirl over on LiveJournal.


To jazz: to speak in an insincere or exaggerated manner

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Sometimes, Yamamoto Genryuusai Shigekuni felt like strangling someone, preferably the people across from him. Like banging a few heads against the wall. Like bringing the full force of his bankai to bear against all transgressors. Like tearing out what was left of his hair in frustration. Like curling up into a ball under his desk, sticking his thumb in his mouth, and crying his eyes out.

This was one such occasion.

"Jazz-fukutaichou, could you please explain to me what exactly happened on your last mission?"

He could feel one hand rhythmically clenching beneath the table. His old eyes were angry, little slits, and his long hair fluttered in the breeze of the courtyard, which did little for his mood. This was the only kami-bedamned place they could have this meeting. Since he was never – ever! – inviting this mechanical, moronic monstrosity anywhere near his office. His personal sanctum.

Beside him, Jyuushiro just sipped his tea. Head tilted to the side and a soft smile on his lips. His eyes flickered to his new lieutenant, gleaming with the sort of pride and affection that only a father can have. Despite the fact that his new "son" was both taller and outweighed him by a considerable margin. Not to mention that he was older than human civilization.

And to think that he'd always believed Shunsui the more aggravating of the two. Perish the thought.

"Well," Jazz began in what he hoped was a winning tone, "I was in the livin' world with my new squad. Just learnin' the ropes and gettin' everybody on the same page. And while we were there, I saw Megs just hangin' around in spirit form. Guess he died pretty recently, too."

"Megs?" the captain-commander interrupted.

"Megs… Megatron. Super bad guy," Jazz continued with a flippant wave. "Like that Aizen dude but not as easy on the eyes."

Yamamoto bit his tongue but motioned for him to go on.

"Ya see," the lieutenant informed him, "I've never sent anybody to hell before. Least not literally. I thought they'd turned into a butterfly like when we do konsoh on regular people. Didn't realize the gate would just suck 'em in. Not a very good system, if ya ask me. Really--"

Jyuushiro abruptly cleared his throat and very effectively cut him off. "I believe there will be time for that later, Jazz." He winked at his robot.

The old man's left eye twitched.

And Jazz went on, "Right… So after we used like a hundred bindin' spells and got 'im on the ground, I stamped 'im on the forehead like the captain said I should." He paused to nod at Jyuushiro, who beamed back at him. "And the gate appeared and started sucking 'im in only…"

"Only?" Yamamoto prompted.

Jazz almost seemed sheepish, which sent off warning bells in the captain-commander's head. The robot didn't do sheepish, guilt, or anything resembling responsibility. Or obedience for that matter.

"Well, he kinda got stuck." Jazz shrugged, as if he hadn't just stated an impossibility.

"Stuck?" Yamamoto repeated. Absolutely certain that he had to have missed something.

Souls simply didn't get stuck. Not in the gate. Not on the way to hell. That just didn't happen. Ever.

"He didn't fit. Gate wasn't quite big enough. I mean," the lieutenant clarified, "the guy's huge. Bigger me an' Komamura combined."

The captain-commander felt his eyes widen. A shiver of dread went down his spine as a vague sensation of déjà vu floated through his brain. And somewhere in the back of his soul, his zanpakutou cackled. He firmly told Ryuujin Jakka to shut up.

"And this is when you released your zanpakutou?" Yamamoto asked with a pained tone.

"Er… no. That actually came later." Jazz shifted very slightly, which in humans terms meant that he actually moved about a foot.

"What did you do then, Jazz?" Jyuushiro attempted to get him back on track.

The robot gave another shrug. "Like I said, he didn't fit. So we tried ta push him through."

Yamamoto blinked. And blinked again. Jyuushiro just shook his head and took a sip of tea.

"What?" the old man couldn't quite believe what he'd heard.

"We tried ta push him through," Jazz repeated.

It was so farfetched that it couldn't possibly be true.

"You tried to--"

"--push 'im through," Jazz finished.

The sheer absurdity of that statement was mindboggling. But the captain-commander still had to ask.

"How?"

Jazz lifted a nonexistent eyebrow. "Just stood behind 'im and shoved. Kiyone used a kidoh, and that seemed to work pretty well. But he started fighting us at that point. Right around the time his leg got unstuck. A few of the bindin' spells broke, and he could move his hands and one o' his arms."

"And that's when you released your shikai?" Yamamoto was certain that had happened somewhere in this debacle.

"No, that's when I cut off his arm." The lieutenant defended with a fond grin, "S'not like he's gonna need it or anythin'. Supposed to be hell. Eternal punishment and all. Don't need both arms for that, right?"

Yamamoto didn't really know what to say to that. Finally, he settled for rubbing his forehead.

"What happened next?" Jyuushiro inquired, setting his cup down.

Jazz made a vaguely nervous motion with his hand. "Well… then, this cat showed up and started talkin' ta us."

There was a pause as Yamamoto absorbed this new information.

"Cat?" It was asked with a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, which had settled somewhere near his ankles.

"Yeah, black beauty with gold eyes." Jazz almost sounded amused. Or perhaps bemused. "Had a really deep voice fer such a little thing."

"Yoruichi," Yamamoto said with a deep and very weary sigh. He felt his temple throb but ignored it. "And then?"

"Then, things were goin' pretty good," the robot assured him. "Got 'im almost all the way in 'for the kidoh on his mouth ended, and he began yellin' at us. Few more spells broke."

The old man had an idea where this was going. "Then, you summoned your shikai," he put in tiredly.

"Naw," Jazz corrected, "I didn't do that until the Arrancar came."

"Arrancar?" Yamamoto stopped short. When had they become involved in this fiasco?

"Yeah, two of 'em. Came after we finished shovin' Megs through the gate. 'Parently, they were attracted by all the reiatsu we were throwin' around, 'cept they didn't quite expect so many of us ta be there. Or fer that black cat ta turn into a woman and started fightin' 'em." Jazz paused to consider. "This was all in my report."

Which the captain-commander had only skimmed.

So instead, he asked, "And that is when several buildings were destroyed?"

"Yeah, but only two of 'em. And nobody was there at the time anyway. Everybody's perfectly fine now." Jazz gave a thumbs-up.

By this point, the captain-commander just didn't care anymore. "What then?"

"Well, Megs was through the gate. An' the Arrancar both ran. So we packed up and came home," Jazz finished with a big grin. Obviously pleased with himself.

"That's it?" Yamamoto questioned dubiously.

The lieutenant was quick to reassure him. "That's it."

Yamamoto had the sudden urge to bite something. "Entire city blocks were destroyed. Chaos everywhere," he said in his most commanding and exasperated tone. "The human news reports have images of a giant robot fighting in the streets!"

Jazz shrugged. "I don't know 'bout that. Mighta been my old friends. They're all still around as far as I know."

"There's more of you. How wonderful," the old man sarcastically mumbled under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," Yamamoto stated. "I think that I've heard more than enough." He looked at their hopeful faces and whatever retort he might have formed died before it even left his throat. He just exhaled and contemplated early retirement. "Go. Just go. Leave."

They were both quick to stand. Jyuushiro thanked him for the tea, but the old man waved him off.

Jazz grinned. "Thanks, Yama-jii! We'll have to do this again."

Yamamoto put his head in his hands. "Leave," he commanded. "Just leave. Now. Go now." If the fiery aura flickering around him wasn't enough hint, his zanpakutou rattling ominously in its cane form certainly was.

They left. Hurriedly. They were almost to the exit when they heard a strangled sound behind them. But neither dared looked back.

Jazz just turned to his captain with very apparent confusion. "Was it somethin' I said?"


Ever Hopeful,

Azar