== Obsession ==
I still don't own Transformers or any of the characters or concepts
I've been busy writing the last chapters of Forbidden Fantasies but this frigging pair and their smexual addictions have been in my head for a while now and will not get out!
Mirage and Cliffjumper aren't often paired. When they are in a story together - paired or otherwise - usually the situation is fairly predictable. One way or another, Cliffumper is "being horrible". There's a few variations on a theme, but the thrust is that he a nasty little person who takes an unjustified dislike to Mirage and continually harangues, accuses or uses him. Mirage nearly always goes into victim mode as a result and is sometimes "rescued" by a less cantankerous team member, usually Hound. I guess a lot of this is inspired by the Traitor episode.
I always felt that CJ behaved like he did in Traitor for a reason (people generally do have reasons), and I decided that he must have been a dumped lover. It kind of explained the kiss and make up stuff after as well:D In Forbidden Fantasies there is one version of this as a subplot. This story is not the same universe as FF and explores the relationship during the time on Earth with the assumption that CJ had not actually met Mirage before they came to Earth.
The idea of Mirage as rich, talented and unashamed seducer sits well!
CJ also has a secret friendship with Rumble - but its all platonic.
This chapter around the end of the first series. It's all CJ's POV. Next chapter goes back to start of G1 :D
Warnings: None for this chapter but whole story gets angsty and explicit
Even though Jazz smiled pleasantly at me across the large desk, my processing chamber churned, and I felt emotion rising already.
I mean - it could have been worse. It could have been somebody other than Jazz. Someone totally insensitive – like Ironhide or Prowl. Jazz was trying to be really nice. But I had a good idea what he was going to say and it still sucked. He smiled again. "Now Cliffie," he said, "You know what you're in here for. Don't ya?"
"Yes, I think so." My voice was low, almost a whisper. I didn't look at him.
"Cliffie?" His voice was all kind and understanding. "Look," he said, "I'll cut straight to the chase. I'm hardly one to be against relationships here, but this thing with you an' Mirage it just – it ain't gonna work now, is it? An' you're gonna have to put a stop to it."
My optics filled with tears and I felt furious with myself. I had been determined before I came in that this wasn't going to happen, that I was going to be cool and nonchalant. Now it had not only happened but happened after his first two sentences.
"It might work!" I whispered. A tear rolled down my cheek and fell on the desk. Jazz got up and went across to a nearby table and fetched a rag, which he brought over and handed to me. "Here …" he said. Pulling a chair over next to mine he sat down and laid a hand very gently on my arm.
"Cliffjumper," he said, "there's a few things you gotta get straight in your head. And one of those is that you're a minibot from Gard Nordic. The other is that he's an Alphamech from the Towers. Now there ain't no way, no matter what it might look like to you, that anything is gonna go any further than what it is right now," he patted my arm gently. "He wouldn't ... they just .... they don't take up mechs not their own kind! Especially not …" he paused. "Especially not here!"
Why hadn't he just come out with it? Especially not with a minibot like you. I was certain that had been going to be it. His words cut in, their truth undeniable. Another tear was making its way to the desk and I brushed it away angrily. Then I looked at him. "It doesn't matter," I said. "I'm happy with things the way they are! We both agree that it's not a good idea to get involved while the war's still on!" I said it so forcefully I almost convinced myself.
Jazz sighed, "That may be so for now Cliffie but sooner or later you'll want more. It's only natural!"
I didn't want to hear it. I stared at the table again. Actually, I thought angrily, it was none of his business! And, I told myself, it was not the real reason for this "little talk." Well, we should be concentrating on that. The rest was irrelevant. So I told myself.
"This is mainly because he's an officer ain't it?" I said. "And I'm not. Well it's a stupid stuffy rule and it stinks. It's archaic! I thought the Autobots were trying to be all hip and happening here and up with the times."
Jazz nodded. "It is part the reason, yeah," he said. "And you're right - it ain't nothin' new. But it's accepted, Cliff. It makes for a smoother running of the team. There ain't nobody else in the ranks here involved with an officer is there?"
It was true, there wasn't. "It's still a stupid rule." I said. "And there ought to be exceptions where mechs can be – responsible and discreet." I ignored the little voice which told me I had been neither. Truth was I loved everyone knowing that I was fragging an Alphamech.
"It's true, exceptions have been made," Jazz was saying. He leaned forward and laid a hand on my wrist again. "But Cliffie, that's just it! You ain't been that way. This is what I'm tryin' to tell ya! It's been real obvious the whole way how this is affecting you. I mean look at ya now!" As if to prove his point I felt emotion well up inside and I grabbed the cloth off the table. "I'm all right," I said. "Lots of mechs get like this when …" I paused, embarrassed to say it. "When their interfacing is intense."
Jazz sighed. "Cliffy it's not just intense, is it? It's completely taken you over! Your performance in front of those humans yesterday was lamentable man! You crashed straight into those parked cars and it was just lucky nobody was in 'em or they woulda got seriously hurt and maybe killed.
"They shouldn't have been there in the first place!" I grumbled, knowing that was a completely unreasonable thing to say and that Optimus Prime had spent the morning negotiating a settlement for damages with some humans on account of the mess I'd made being my fault.
Jazz shook his head. "It's not just that though is it? You don't socialize, you don't talk to your friends any more. When was the last time you went to the rec room or on a group drive or went swimming at the dam? You spend all your time holed up wi'him and then when he ain't here you spent all yer time holed up in yer room wishin' he was." He paused. "I'm right. Aren't I?"
"Partially!" I muttered, knowing he was absolutely right. I mean – I was still friends with Rumble, but that hardly counted, and I couldn't even use it as an example. "I played snowballs and snowmen not long ago!" I said.
"That was aeons ago – just before we got Skyfire! Look man", he went on, "I've spoken to Ratchet and you ain't even properly energising and recharging. That's why your judgement's off and why things are happenin' like what happened yesterday. You gotta get a grip, Cliffie!"
I looked at him. "We all have our off days, Jazz. That – yesterday – that was one of them!" I knew damned well that wasn't it. Before the silly public relations stunt driving thing started I'd done nothing but screw and have wild overloads and had had no recharge for two days and nights. It was all right for Mirage – he'd had a day off afterward. But there I was, supposedly entertaining these humans and barely able to drive in a straight line.
Jazz got up and walked slowly to the window and stared out into the fading afternoon light. "Look – Cliffie – there ain't no nice way to put this," he said. "You – being like this. You're not the first to be like it – over him."
I looked at him. "I know about the others." I said. "He's been very open and honest with me." And he had. Too open and honest. In my spark I knew I was really just one on a whole line of conquests and thrills. But I refused to acknowledge it. Still stuck to the belief that I could turn him on like nobody else and for that reason I was different. "I'm special!" I said. He had said that. Well, sort of. He'd said I was the best frag he'd had in aeons. That was nearly the same.
Jazz looked at me fondly. "Look – Cliff …" he said, "I've seen it all before!" he sighed, and came back over to the table and sat down - opposite - where he had sat at the start of the interview. "Mirage – does this," he said. "He takes up with somebody and makes love to them passionately and whispers sweet nothings in their audials. They think they're the greatest thing! In some ways they are – until either they start making demands or somebody more interesting comes along. Then he just drops his current source of gratification and moves on."
I heard myself say: "Well that's fine. I want him to be his own person!" But I knew Jazz wasn't fooled for an instant. Neither was I, and inside my circuits froze at what I knew deep in my spark was the truth. Then emotion welled up again and the tears were running freely down my cheeks.
Jazz 's expression was grim. "I rest my case!" he said. "Look at ya! Now, Prime has been quite clear about this Cliffie. I'll be talking to Mirage as well. I want you to bring the relationship to an end!"
Unable to stop myself, I burst into a flood of tears. "But I don't want to!" I wailed. "That's not fair! Don't make me do this Jazz! You wouldn't like it if somebody told you you had to leave Prowl!"
Jazz got up again and came and patted my back softly. "It ain't the same, Cliffie …" he said.
"Well I can't!" I sobbed. "And it was probably the first truthful thing I had said so far.
Jazz took his hand away. "Then he will be ordered to." He said. "Look, Cliffie …" I felt a finger under my chin and he was raising his tear stained face up to look at me. "It will be better for you," he said. "You have to trust me on this. You're a good Autobot man! You've come far too close enough to being hurt for my liking. He took his hand away and I wiped my face with the cloth and tried to stop the tears, but they kept coming. "I've seen some of his exes do crazy things when they get the shove," Jazz was saying, "I ain't gonna go into details, but – look, there needs to be an end to this before y'end up gettin' ditched and doin' somethin' stupid too." Again his words cut into my core like lazers and I did not think I could listen to any more.
I got up. "If that's it I gotta go," I mumbled.
"Yeah, That's it!" Jazz sighed and went back to the table and started to gather his papers up. Our meeting was at an end. The word had spoken, and that was that.
Except that I was right. I couldn't stop seeing Mirage. Not unless he wanted to. My circuits nearly went into stasis again at the possibility of that, so I pushed the thoughts away. No. He wouldn't want to. It was too good, besides, he hardly took kindly to being told what to do. We wouldn't want to – and we wouldn't. Even if it meant doing it in secret.
I got up slowly and made my way to the door. "Go and see Hound if you need to talk," said Jazz.
I muttered: "Yes sir!" and left, feeling worn out and more unhappy than I ever remembered feeling in my entire life.