Glances Into a Spark - Playing the Melody
Title: Glances Into a Spark - Playing the Melody
Fandom: Transformers
Characters/pairings: ensemble
Rating: PG
Summary: Oneshots about any and possibly all of the movie cast, and then some.
Warnings: language
Notes: Old writing, in it's mostly original format (very minor corrections may have been made)
Co1dpaws tf2007fun: Write a fic that involves Ironhide and Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture. Why? Because the 1812 Overture requires CANNON fire as part of its performance. And it is AWESOME.
Table of Contents
o o o
Theme #67: Playing the Melody
o o o
The sun was just barely visible over the horizon as the band finished another song to heavy applause. It was Mission City High's last concert of the year, out on the football field with packed stands. Sam leaned forward in his seat, elbows on his knees, to pick out the two familiar forms once more - Annabelle Lennox, in with the Upper Half clarinets, and his own son Jase, with the Lower Half trombones.
The band director gave the crowd a sweeping bow, and then held up his hands for silence. "One last song for you tonight, folks. It's the Upper Half's time to shine, so Lower Half'll be joining you in the stands. We've got a special treat in store, so just give us a few to set it up." At that, the middle section of the band - the freshmen and sophomores - started packing up their instruments and dragging chairs towards the edge of the field, the juniors and seniors helping. A horseshoe shape of band members was left behind, and Sam's eyes went wide as a big, black, familiar truck pulled into the emptied space, something tarp covered in back.
"Jase," Sam said as his son joined him on the hard metal bench. "Why is Ironhide here?"
Jase gave his father a too-wicked grin that Sam had come to know and fear. "You'll see," he said. Down on the field, Will Lennox had gotten out of Ironhide's cab and removed the tarp, revealing what looked like a mass of metal pipes standing upright in Ironhide's cab.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the band director said, interrupting Sam's questions. "This is the last performance for many of these wonderful musicians. They're a wonderful group, lemme tell you. And to make this last night special, Colonel Will Lennox of the Mission City base has agreed to donate his time and skill to us. I guarantee, you won't forget this. Ladies and gentlemen, the 1812 Overture, composed by Tchaikovsky and performed by the Mission City Highschool Upper Half band."
1812 Overture. Something about that niggled at Sam's thoughts, as the intro started. Something about this song, that would explain why Ironhide was on the field, and as the song rose and fell and went into the dramatic middle section, Sam found his eyes drawn to those metal tubes.
Metal tubes that almost looked like mortar launchers.
"Oh, no," Sam murmured, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Oh, yes," Jase countered, already grinning hard enough to hurt.
Abruptly, the song switched, brilliant and upbeat, and Sam found himself bracing for the inevitable.
The first blast rocked Ironhide on his tires, and the night lit up with blue and green plasma, the school colors. The launchers in the truck's bed were blasting along with the song like an organ from hell, and the noise hurt, it was so loud, but no one cared because it was incredible, and for a full minute the band played like they'd never played before and the sky above the field was full of light and noise and Ratchet was probably going to kill Ironhide for the hell his shocks were going through. The finale was probably visible in Vegas, and Sam wondered when the hell he'd gotten to his feet, applauding and whistling through his teeth and his ears were going to be ringing for the rest of the night.
o o o
"I've gotta say, Ironhide," Sam said later, out in the parking lot. "You really know how to put on a show."
"And I get all the credit for it," Will said smugly, leaning against the Autobot's front bumper. "As far as the band knows, I'm just a nutty old soldier with a love of explosions and too much time on my hands."
"Not an unfair description," Ironhide said, getting a dirty look in return.
"So you agree then," Bumblebee said, from where he was parked beside the truck. "That human music isn't all bad?"
Ironhide rocked slightly, looking for all the world like he was shifting on his feet. "Some of it is passable," he conceded.
"Told ya."
"You know," Jase spoke up from where he was leaning back in Bumblebee's passenger seat. "I think I can find enough songs with explosions in 'em that we can put on a full concert. How'd you like to do the fireworks on base this Fourth of July, 'Hide?"
"Hm... I'll consider it."
Sam and Will shared an alarmed look. This would be an interesting - and deafening - summer.
Fandom: Transformers
Characters/pairings: ensemble
Rating: PG
Summary: Oneshots about any and possibly all of the movie cast, and then some.
Warnings: language
Notes: Old writing, in it's mostly original format (very minor corrections may have been made)
Co1dpaws tf2007fun: Write a fic that involves Ironhide and Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture. Why? Because the 1812 Overture requires CANNON fire as part of its performance. And it is AWESOME.
Table of Contents
o o o
Theme #67: Playing the Melody
o o o
The sun was just barely visible over the horizon as the band finished another song to heavy applause. It was Mission City High's last concert of the year, out on the football field with packed stands. Sam leaned forward in his seat, elbows on his knees, to pick out the two familiar forms once more - Annabelle Lennox, in with the Upper Half clarinets, and his own son Jase, with the Lower Half trombones.
The band director gave the crowd a sweeping bow, and then held up his hands for silence. "One last song for you tonight, folks. It's the Upper Half's time to shine, so Lower Half'll be joining you in the stands. We've got a special treat in store, so just give us a few to set it up." At that, the middle section of the band - the freshmen and sophomores - started packing up their instruments and dragging chairs towards the edge of the field, the juniors and seniors helping. A horseshoe shape of band members was left behind, and Sam's eyes went wide as a big, black, familiar truck pulled into the emptied space, something tarp covered in back.
"Jase," Sam said as his son joined him on the hard metal bench. "Why is Ironhide here?"
Jase gave his father a too-wicked grin that Sam had come to know and fear. "You'll see," he said. Down on the field, Will Lennox had gotten out of Ironhide's cab and removed the tarp, revealing what looked like a mass of metal pipes standing upright in Ironhide's cab.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the band director said, interrupting Sam's questions. "This is the last performance for many of these wonderful musicians. They're a wonderful group, lemme tell you. And to make this last night special, Colonel Will Lennox of the Mission City base has agreed to donate his time and skill to us. I guarantee, you won't forget this. Ladies and gentlemen, the 1812 Overture, composed by Tchaikovsky and performed by the Mission City Highschool Upper Half band."
1812 Overture. Something about that niggled at Sam's thoughts, as the intro started. Something about this song, that would explain why Ironhide was on the field, and as the song rose and fell and went into the dramatic middle section, Sam found his eyes drawn to those metal tubes.
Metal tubes that almost looked like mortar launchers.
"Oh, no," Sam murmured, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Oh, yes," Jase countered, already grinning hard enough to hurt.
Abruptly, the song switched, brilliant and upbeat, and Sam found himself bracing for the inevitable.
The first blast rocked Ironhide on his tires, and the night lit up with blue and green plasma, the school colors. The launchers in the truck's bed were blasting along with the song like an organ from hell, and the noise hurt, it was so loud, but no one cared because it was incredible, and for a full minute the band played like they'd never played before and the sky above the field was full of light and noise and Ratchet was probably going to kill Ironhide for the hell his shocks were going through. The finale was probably visible in Vegas, and Sam wondered when the hell he'd gotten to his feet, applauding and whistling through his teeth and his ears were going to be ringing for the rest of the night.
o o o
"I've gotta say, Ironhide," Sam said later, out in the parking lot. "You really know how to put on a show."
"And I get all the credit for it," Will said smugly, leaning against the Autobot's front bumper. "As far as the band knows, I'm just a nutty old soldier with a love of explosions and too much time on my hands."
"Not an unfair description," Ironhide said, getting a dirty look in return.
"So you agree then," Bumblebee said, from where he was parked beside the truck. "That human music isn't all bad?"
Ironhide rocked slightly, looking for all the world like he was shifting on his feet. "Some of it is passable," he conceded.
"Told ya."
"You know," Jase spoke up from where he was leaning back in Bumblebee's passenger seat. "I think I can find enough songs with explosions in 'em that we can put on a full concert. How'd you like to do the fireworks on base this Fourth of July, 'Hide?"
"Hm... I'll consider it."
Sam and Will shared an alarmed look. This would be an interesting - and deafening - summer.