Donuts and Holes
Glen Whitmann loved a lot of things, some surprising, some not. He loved donuts. He loved chai tea. He even loved Chopin. He loved his grandma though she drove him fucking nuts. And he loved Maggie.
Oh yes, did he ever love Maggie. He loved the way she laughed. He loved her quick wit, quicker temper, and lightning fast brain. Of course he loved the way she looked (what hot blooded heterosexual virgin wouldn’t?) He loved the way she could piss anyone off in less than a minute just by being her. He loved how she even managed to get under their new boss’ skin…sleek silver metal skin.
Problem was, even though Maggie was able to piss off Jazz, which in and of itself was quite an accomplishment, Glen was pretty sure that she was doing more than just getting under the mech’s armor. Or, perhaps the problem was that was exactly what she was doing, and Glen hadn’t even been aware that was possible. It created all sorts of nutty pictures in his brain that probably should have disgusted him, except it didn’t.
So he sat and ate his donuts, watching the escalating battle over the best way to approach encrypting the Nest’s planet wide communications from Soundwave. Maggie was calling for them to take a completely non-Cybertronian approach, something so simple that the ‘Cons would completely overlook it. She had done her homework, and the codes she presented were as brilliant in their simplicity as the Navajo codetalkers had been during WWII. But that didn’t change the fact that Maggie was yelling at being whose intelligence made both of them look like small children and who had been working on projects like this for longer than human civiliazation.
“You are being a fucking idiot!” She yelled and stormed out of the base’s communications center.
Jazz stared after her, optics flashing, his servo clenched.
“You gonna fire her?” Glen asked.
Jazz suddenly relaxed and laughed. “’Course not. She's good for me. Ya both are. I’ve always appreciated a fresh approach. Why I’ve always been interested in alien species - give me new ways of lookin’ at things.”
Jazz leaned in toward Glen and whispered.
“She works better when she thinks she’s pissin’ off her boss. Just wait n see what she brings back this time.”
Glen looked down at his nearly empty plate of donuts and grinned. At least the fireworks would be fun to watch, even if all he was left with was the donut hole for company.