TF: Rhythm and Blues

Disclaimer:  I don’t own Jazz or any other Transformer. Ashley and any other human characters [unless of course they’re real people that I know] belong to me. /Now I gotta go find Blaster. He promised to sneak me out to a club. XD/

WARNING: Implications of past PxJ slash

Chapter 3:  Convergence

     The whine of engines pushing their limits filled the once quiet night. Brakes screeched as six aliens cum human cars met. Around them cars operated by humans swerved to avoid the Transformers, cursing and honking all the while.
     “Well, well, looks like the Autobot survived.” Drag Strip sneered.
     “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon,” Jazz taunted, “and ya even brought friends with ya. Can’t handle me alone, Dragy?”
The yellow Formula-1 racecar made an angry sound like metal on asphalt. Drag Strip transformed and lunged for the Porsche, but Jazz had anticipated his move and evaded the ‘Cons attack. The yellow Stunticon hit the asphalt and skidded across   the road with a metallic screech.
     His team offered no sympathy as they laughed at his predicament.
     “Shut up!” Drag Strip roared, but the other Stunticons only laughed harder.  
     “Looks like yer dead outta luck.” Jazz said to rile the Decepticon even more. He needed to lure them away from the town and an angry ‘Con could chase his skidplate for days without stopping. Of course he had no plan for when he lured them away, but he would pull something out of his tailpipe.
    Now t’ put on the finishin’ touch. Jazz would have grinned if he had not been in his car mode.
     “It took ya long enough t’ find me.” The Porsche drawled. “I was beginnin’ t’ think yer as slow as yer processor.”  
     Drag Strip was furious. The Autobot had the nerve to insult his speed and intelligence?
     “He’s got you there, Drag Strip!” Wildrider taunted, taking enjoyment out of his fellow’s embarrassment.
     Something snapped in Drag Strip’s CPU and he let out a string of Cybertronian swears that would make even Megatron cringe. “You fragging slag-head! You Autobot :..::.:!”  
    “Whoa now! No need fer that kinda language.” Jazz protested.
    Bristling with rage, Drag Strip made another lunge for the Autobot. Jazz however, had other plans. He sped past the other Stunticons and out to Highway 24. Drag Strip wasted no time, immediately he transformed and chased after the Porsche.      Not wanting to miss the show, the other Stunticons followed in the hopes of watching Energon spill, no matter whose.


-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-



     Unknown to Jazz and the Stunticons, Ashley had witnessed the whole fight. With shaking hands, Ashley gripped the steering wheel of her Camaro. The last eight minutes had been the most intense and frightening minutes of her life.
     She had not known whether Jazz was going to get out of the tussle unharmed.  From some unknown depths of her, a fierce urge to ram her car’s fender into the yellow bastard attacking her friend reared up. At first she had been startled by her rather violent impulse, but after the second attempt to catch Jazz, the idea seemed positively genius.
     It had been lucky for her that the Porsche had fled when he did or she really would have followed through on her insane urge.  
      God, what’s happenin’ t’ me?  Ashley thought as she slumped onto the steering wheel. I’m actin’ like an overprotective mother and Jazz certainly ain’t my kid.
     She was not allowed the comfort of lingering over her thoughts, as her cellphone cut through the heavy silence of shock.  Blindly, she groped for it and flipped it open when her hand encountered it.
     “Hello?” She said into the receiver, her voice wavering uncertainly.
     “Ashley are y’ all right?” came her uncle’s soothing baritone.
     “Yeah.” She smiled despite the gravity of the dilemma she had found herself in, but his sigh of relief caused her frown to return. “What’s wrong?”
     “Y’ need ta get home. There are some…people here lookin’ for ya.”
     The blood in her veins turned to ice, thoughts of Decepticons at her uncle’s doorstep sending her into near panic. “People?”  
     “They say they’re here about an email.”
     Relief washed away her fear. The Autobots had gotten her email and came looking for Jazz.  The Autobots were here. The thought muddled
     “Tell them to meet me at the 24 and 157 crossroad, asap. “ Ashley hung up and shakily cranked her car. Her legs were jello and her arms were about as useful as wet noodles.  The young mechanic feared for her friend’s life despite their short acquaintance.  Something about Jazz drew her in and her normally friendly but reserved attitude had melted away when she spoke with him. He was openly honest and he had never talked down to her, even though he was a super-advanced alien robot from another planet who was probably millions of years older than her.  
     A strange warmth spread from her heart through her body and for a moment she could believe that everything was going to be all right.   
     Please God, keep ‘im safe.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-


     Sunstreaker and Sideswipe pulled up to the waiting Camaro. They could see it’s human operator slumped against the steering wheel, oblivious to their presence. However, a blast from their horns caught her attention quickly enough.
     The Camaro’s window rolled down and the twin Autobot’s found themselves pinned by a heated glare.
     “It’s about time thatcha got here.” Ashley snapped at them. Her normally polite personality had taken a leave of absence. “Jazz took off down 24 with five of them Decepticons on his tail.”
     Had they been in their natural bipedal forms, they might have stared at her, but as it was, their engines sputtered.
     “Well? Are you goin’ t’ go after him or not?” The woman demanded when they just sat there.
     That snapped the twins from their stupor.
     “Wait, just an astro-second.” Sunstreaker barked. “Who in the Pit are you?”
     “Not now, Sunny. We’ve gotta help Jazz!” Sideswipe reminded his brother.
     “The flesh-bag could be lying!” Sunstreaker protested.
     Ashley rubbed her temples. She could feel the beginning of a particularly nasty headache coming on. It did not help that she was becoming rather angry at a certain yellow fool.
     “Ashley Taylor, pleased t’ meet ya. Now, are y’ going t’ help Jazz or not?” She demanded. If they did not do something soon, she would take matters – and her uncle’s shotgun- into her own hands.
     Sunstreaker’s engine roared. “Shut up, squishy. I don’t have the patience to deal with you.” The yellow Lamborghini hissed.
     Sideswipe groaned. “Sunstreaker!”
     Fed up with the pointless argument, Ashley put her car into drive and roared off after Jazz, leaving the twins in her dust.
     “Frag it, Sunny!”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Outside of Moulton

     At the county line, four very different vehicles were making their way into Moulton city limits. Their lights flashing and sirens blaring, a police car and an ambulance led a red, flat nose Mac truck and a yellow Volkswagon Beetle past the traffic that parted like the red sea to allow them passage.
     “Prime, I have picked up a police transmission.” Prowl said. “Five vehicles are chasing a white Porsche down highway 24.”  
     Bumblebee groaned. “Ah, man, all of the Stunticons are here.” He said.
     “I’m going to have to put those to slag-heads back together when this is through.” Ratchet groused. “Do I have permission to put them together backwards, sir?”
     Optimus laughed though he was worried for his Special Operations commander. “As much grief as it might save us, the twins are more valuable to us whole. Though if you want to remove their vocalizers…”
     The Beetle and ambulance laughed, but Prowl remained stoic. His mind was focused solely on Jazz and the battle ahead.
     Jazz had been his friend since the start of the war, when they had been put in the same unit. Once they might have been more, but they had not been able to keep the spark between them alive. However, no matter what had gone on in the past, Jazz was first and foremost his best friend and that was reason enough for the Datsun to care for his fellow black and white.
     “Our ETA is eight minutes.” Prowl broke in letting Ratchet know that his attempt to lighten the mood had not worked on the police car.
     “Jazz will be fine, Prowl.” Ratchet said wryly. “As the human’s say: He has the devil’s own luck.”
     Bumblebee silently agreed with Ratchet, but the yellow ‘bot knew that to Prowl’s battle computer luck was just an illogical notion, for Prowl everything had a logical reason for happening.
     “He’s smart, Prowl. There’s no way Jazz would take on all five of the Stunticons.” The yellow Beetle assured the tactician.
     “He would if it kept the humans safe.” Prowl said, “You forget that he has been in the company of a young human for the past two days. Jazz will not want them to be hurt because of him.”
     No one said anything for a minute. They knew that Jazz was not the kind of mech to let someone suffer if he could prevent it, even if it cost him dearly.
     “We must hurry.” Optimus said as he accelerated. “Prowl, keep an audio on the police’s CB frequency.”
     “Yes, sir.”
     We’re coming Jazz. Just hang on.


-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-


     Five minutes.
     They had been on his tailpipe for five fragging minutes and already Jazz could feel his energy waning. The five Stunticons were practically right on him, but only Drag Strip was attacking. The best part of the whole thing was that his emergency beacon was damaged and it had not showed up on his system scan.  The Autobot did not think that there was a word in any language to cover how bad the situation was.
     Drag Strip apparently knew this as well. “You can’t run forever!” The yellow ‘Con bellowed.
      Guess it’s now or never. Jazz thought. “Yer right, but I can do this.” The Autobot said as he introduced Drag Strip to his fender.
     Howling with outrage, Drag Strip swerved sharply, driving himself into a ditch.
The Porsche stopped and the Stunticons skid to a stop, just as quickly as the enemy Porsche. The site of Drag Strip with his fender in the air was enough to send the Stunticons into fits of laughter.
     “Drag Strip, you are a fool. Hurry and kill this Autobot before I become impatient.” Motormaster said as he glared at the F-1.
     Having had the fear of pain put in him, Drag Strip flew from the ditch. “You’re going to pay!” He screeched hysterically at Jazz. “I’m not going to lose to a scrap heap like you!”
     Jazz raced his engine, “Let’s rock ‘n roll.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-


     Even at midnight there were cars on Highway 24; however, traffic had come to a stop. Cars had been parked on the side of the road- and in some cases looked as if they had been thrown off the road- and their owners were watching the flashing lights from the battlefield ahead.
     By some miracle many had the sense to pull off of the main road, leaving Ashley plenty of room to maneuver. A quick glance at her rear view mirror revealed that the two Autobots were following her. It had not been her intention to go after Jazz, but once again her rasher side had won out over common sense. The mechanic was not foolish enough to believe that there was anything that she could do for Jazz, besides get in his way.
     Unbeknownst to Ashley, her pursuers were thinking much the same.

     “Prime isn’t going to be happy about this, Sunny.”
     The yellow Lamborghini growled. “As long as we stop the fragging idiot before she gets killed, Prime won’t have to know.”
     “So now you believe her?” Sideswipe teased.
     “Idiot.”
     Sideswipe laughed. A flash of blue caught his attention. “She pulled over.” He said, surprised that she had actually stopped. From her attitude before, the Lamborghini had actually been expecting her to take on the Stunticons.
     The twins pulled up to the Camaro. Just as they stopped, the door flew open and Ashley stepped out. There was no ‘hello nice to see you again’, instead she barked ‘go’ at them and slammed the car door.  
     Sunstreaker laughed unkindly. “Not so brave now, huh?” he sneered.
     Anger clouded Ashley’s face and she glared at him. “I’m not crazy enough t’ get in a brawl with a giant killer robot, you yellow moron.” She snapped. “Just go help Jazz.”
     The whump, whump, whump of laser fire punctuated her statement.
     Cursing, Sunstreaker shot away toward the battle. “We’ll finish this later!” He called back.
     “Sorry.” Sideswipe said as he followed his brother, leaving Ashley to choke on their dust.
     “Good luck.” She said though they could no longer hear her. Her heart screamed for her to follow them and help Jazz, but her mind squashed the urge. People here needed her now.  The young mechanic turned from the battle and to the many wrecked or parked cars.
     Gearing herself up, Ashley strode up to the closest car and its stunned driver.
     “This ain’t no movie. Get outta here before you're stepped on or blown up!”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-


     Despite how worried Ashley was about her mechanoid friend, there was really little need for her to worry. Once Drag Strip became enraged his ability to aim flat lined.  All Drag Strip managed to do was shoot up the highway, as Jazz weaved in and out of the laser rain.
     “Fight me mech to mech, slag-sucker.” Drag Strip raged.
     Jazz reversed hard to avoid another round of laser fire, but his right side was scorched.
     “Uhn!”

     On the sidelines, the other Stunticons waited impatiently as the two fought.
     “This is getting old.” Wildrider groused. “I want to smash a few heads.”
Motormaster rumbled his agreement. “Drag Strip has had his fun.”
     Behind the Stunticons, someone chuckled darkly.
     “Yeah, and now we’re going to join in.”
     A black fist shot from the inky night, and Wildrider dropped like a rock.
     “Let’s play.”

-----------------------
AN:
This is really AU G1. TF:TM never happened. I liked the movie, but they killed all but 1 of my favorite G1 Autobots. That was so not cool.