Jazz vs Scary Lady- Interlude

Storm clouds had been brewing on the horizon all afternoon. After soaking up the day's heat and humidity, they then unleashed a deluge that had begun soon after sunset and hadn't stopped since. It was a cold, wet and all-around miserable night.

As far as Ravage was concerned, it was perfect.

Slinking into the Ark while the sentries were blinded by the elements and their scanners confounded by sensor ghosts had been deliciously easy. The rescue party charging out to some organic's aid had helped too.

Now, the sleek cat crouched in a maintenance shaft, meticulously removing the mud and water from his coat. Opportunities like this were too few to risk being caught by something as ridiculous as tracking muddy footprints through the base's halls. Not only would Soundwave be very disappointed, his brothers would never let him hear the end of it.

"Let us see what shall be found tonight..." The cat mused to himself as he inspected himself then silently slipped from his hiding spot and deeper into his enemy's lair.

0o0o0

Two hours passed before the increasingly frustrated spy was forced to admit that there wasn't much going on tonight. He had seen several Autobots here and there and recorded all he could about them- conversations, state of health, probable morale and so forth. All things that Soundwave would probably find useful in some regard but nothing was interesting.

In short, Decepticon Ravage, currently in the middle of infiltrating enemy headquarters while said headquarters were almost fully occupied, was bored.

He regarded the door to Wheeljack's heavily re-enforced lab for a moment. "Perhaps... no. Too risky." The thought was dismissed with a flick of the stubby tail. "Officer's deck might be interesting...I'll try that after shift change. But where to go until then?"

Ravage lazily scrolled through his internal map of the base and his optics flared slightly in realisation. "Well, well, well. I have been quite remiss. I haven't inspected the guest quarters for some time."

A silent creature of black steel and silvery alloy, the cat rose to his feet and padded towards his new target.

0o0o0

"Curious... very curious indeed..."

The trip to the guest area had been extraordinarily uneventful. Usually there were at least one or two Autobots hanging around whatever human had been invited in for whatever reason, even if only as a bodyguard/guide, but the hall was suspiciously empty even though two of the four rooms were occupied.

That the two rooms were located as far away from each other as possible was not lost on Ravage. Curiosity fully aroused, the cat slunk to the closest room to investigate.

His attention was first drawn to the sign someone had stuck above the transformer-height door lock. It, he noted, was written only in Iacon-dialect, not the dual Iacon/English signs he had seen elsewhere.

"'Scary Lady.'" He translated. "'Do not enter. Do not feed.' Interesting..." A flicker of movement and he was across the hall and in another maintenance hatch, peering into the room via a wall vent.

Inside, an elderly human female stalked around the room, issuing instructions over a primitive human communication device. Curious, Ravage tapped the landline to hear both sides of the conversation. Barely a minute's listening and he cringed. "Bane of the Unmaker, this is an odious one! No wonder the Autobots put up that warning sign. But why would they want her here...?" That was when he realised whom the woman was talking to- the Autobot's tame human female Carly. "Or 'Carlene' as this female calls her." Ravage corrected himself. "And what is a 'wedding'? This could be useful."  

Ravage set his systems to auto-record the conversation and took a moment to observe the human that the Autobots feared so, taking in her sharp features and haughty carriage. "The Autobots would probably thank me if I kill her for them." He mused. "And it would cause a great deal of disruption to this 'wedding' that they are planning.."His claws unsheathed themselves with a series of quiet clicks.


Below, Scary Lady continued to harangue her daughter, completely oblivious to the danger.

"...no. If she upsets Autobots she will undoubtedly upset Steeljaw. That alone is worth more than enough to let her live."  Ravage decided, rising and disconnecting from the landline. "Now to see about this other visitor..."

Again, there was a sign above this one's door too. Except this one translated to 'Scary Lady Counter-measure. Code name 'Killer Granny'

Later, much, much later, Ravage had been forced to admit to himself that considering what he had seen of Scary Lady, anything that was titled 'Scary Lady Countermeasure' really should have been avoided like rust. But two crucial factors were working against him that night. He was curious and he was about to come into contact with Nana Caroline.

"Huh... it appears this human is bathing... Ravage mused, hearing the sounds of splashing water and some sort of music from behind a closed door. Satisfied that the occupant would be busy for a while, the cat slipped from behind the wall vent and into the room, easy as oil pouring into water.

There were, he immediately noted, several differences between the two rooms. 'Scary Lady' did not inhabit her area. She possessed it, almost bordering on infecting it with her personal touch. This 'Killer Granny' on the other hand, seemed to suffuse her room with a sense of her self. Ravage paused by a battered leather hat resting on a hook and reared up on his hind legs to sniff it. Though his sense of smell was nowhere near that of his arch-nemesis, he could still identify individual humans by scent, if not voice.

So absorbed was he in his investigations and so used to the much more noticeable presence of Autobots that he never noticed the slight shift of air as a door was opened, nor the faint rasp of a heavy cast iron frying pan being removed from a hook on the wall.

0o0o0

"...so like I was saying," Jazz patiently explained, "is th' simple truth that Janet Jackson ain't so hot."
"Maybe man, but her music vids are!" Blaster chuckled as they walked back to quarters after shift, taking the long way past the guest quarters to avoid Medical. "Y' gotta admit.." He trailed off, seeing the intent expression on Jazz's face. It was a habit of his, pausing as something caught his immediate attention. It usually preceded all hell breaking loose. "What..?"

CRACK!  

"GET OUT!"

Ravage shot past the two startled mechs with a yowl of pain. Nana Caroline wasn't far behind, brandishing her frying pan (now sporting quite an impressive dent) and spitting curses like only the wife of a roughneck could, a pink terry bathrobe tightly bound around herself.

Blaster blinked once and swung into action as his cassettes agitated within his chest compartment. "Sic' em boys!" He ordered, letting the smaller Autobots out to begin the chase while Jazz very calmly stopped the furious grandmother by blocking her path with one large hand.

Several other Autobots had turned up by this stage, drawn to the commotion like static-spiders to fresh energon.

"Groove, Streetwise, after Ravage!" Prime ordered, then looked to the others. "Jazz, Blaster, what happened?"
"That...thing was in my room!" Nana Caroline answered for them, obviously incensed at the invasion of her privacy.

There was a moment's pause as Optimus contemplated the still damp and bathrobe-clad elderly woman before him, her obvious ire and the dented cooking implement still clenched in her fist. "...you hit Ravage with a frying pan?" He asked at length.
"If that's that cat-thing's name, then yes I did." Killer Granny replied proudly, chin lifted slightly. "One solid smack right across the rump."

Jazz immediately fell to his knees with a resounding crash, arms spread wide and his expression a mix of awe and adoration. "Marry me."

The elderly woman flushed, self-consciously tucking a few strands of damp silvery hair back behind her ear. "Aw, that's sweet of you hon, but aren't I a little young for you?" She teased.
"Age don't matter, so long as you got love." Jazz replied, turning on his full charm grin.

"Let her be Jazz." Prime couldn't help but chuckle. "You can leave the cradle-robbing for another night."
"Aww...” The Porsche affected something of a sulk but stood, offering an elaborate bow to Nana Caroline by way of farewell. "Just say the word and we'll elope to Vegas, okay?" He told her, grinning again as she blushed.
"I'll hold you to that, hon." She promised, handing him the frying pan 'as a token of gratitude.'

"Alright everyone, let's go." Prime started herding the curious onlookers away, pausing to offer a respectful nod to Nana Caroline as he shepherded the rest away and queried Streetwise on the progress of the Ravage-hunt.

He couldn't wait to tell Elita about this.