Tender Conscience

by Optimus Bob

Prowl finds himself caught in a vicious cycle, unable to free himself, unwilling to lose one that has come to mean so much.

A/N: There maybe some HTML coding I've missed in edit but beta was kindly done by eerian_sadow.

Inspired by this request:

On to the bunny! This takes place in G1., it can be whatever rating you want it, and you can make this as dark, romantic, angsty as you wish just, if you could avoid to much humor unless you really want too. XD

I've read a lot of fics about Jazz seducing Prowl and succeding. I don't mind that of course because good things usually happen but I was wondering about something. Most of the time Prowl does not want to be with Jazz or 'face with him at a certain time but because of Jazz's persuasive act and skills Jazz usually gets what he wants and it ends happily which is always awesome! Now imagine if Prowl doesn't like it. That he does what Jazz wants and falls into a pattern he does not enjoy.

My bunny involves times such as this. Prowl is 'persuaded' by Jazz to be in a relationship with him, Prowl 'faces with Jazz during times he doesn't wish too, and someone catches on (( it can be Jazz or another bot(s). ))

This bunny could in end in many ways but I would prefer a pairing of:
1. Jazz/Prowl
2. Optimus/Prowl
3. Twins/Prowl

The news spread like wildfire through the Ark. Prowl was courting, more than courting; he was well and truly claimed by their resident saboteur, their bonding announcement spread so fast, it would have surprised nobody if the Decepticons got wind of it too. Jazz had made his intentions very clear from almost the moment they'd awoken on Earth. Blaster always knew that Jazz was saving himself for Prowl, since the moment they'd met; he'd figured it was all in the challenge for Jazz, achieving what everyone else thought was impossible. They both had theorised that the uptight tactician had never interfaced with anyone before and that had only made Jazz all the more determined to snag him for himself.

Blaster had been dubious; no he had been highly skeptical that Jazz would be successful. Prowl was just too… different from his friend. Prowl's resistance to Jazz's charms had resulted in one rather obsessive saboteur, throughout their courting and an obsessive Jazz resulted in an equally frustrated, bad tempered Jazz. Blaster smiled as he watched the pair from across the rec. room. He was probably only one of a select few who weren't smiling at the news. Giving the twins a succinct nod, he changed the music track and stepped down from the DJ post for a moment.

Getting himself some energon, he made his way across the room, resting a hand on Jazz's shoulder as he passed the couple, optics glancing at Prowl, a soft smile on his face. Jazz grinned at him, not noticing the subtle, grateful nod Prowl returned to Blaster. Leaving them to their own devices he flopped into a seat beside the twins, who looked as he felt.

Worried.

"Been a long few months, here's to hoping." Blaster raised his cube, clinking it against theirs in the unusual toast.

"At least one good thing came of this." Sunstreaker growled softly.

"Oh?"

"Yeah… Prowl goes a little easier on us when he dishes out punishments now."

Sideswipe let out a snort of humourless laughter. "Got your priorities muddled there I think Sunny."

Sunstreaker glowered at his brother, relaxing a little when Blaster laid a hand on his arm. "I hate to get in middle mechs but… let's give him the benefit of the doubt, yeah? Prowl's a smart mech, he'll have not made this choice lightly."

Snorting into his cube as he downed its contents, Sunstreaker huffed quietly. "Mech didn't know what was good for him a few months ago. Hell it's been almost two Earth years."

Blaster ducked his gaze with a soft sigh. "Yeah, we know Sunny, we're all involved remember?"

Sideswipe swirled his cube slowly, optics fixed on the contents. "Well hopefully… no one else will have to know."

"Yeah we can hope but if he tries anything like that again I swear I'll…" Sunstreaker clenched his fist, cutting his sentence short, his words not needing a voice at this table.

Blaster simply nodded, understanding his attitude. They all felt it to varying degrees, they were probably – at this point anyway – being over protective of their friend, but they'd learned the hard way, it was better to be safe than sorry. He looked over the room, noticing how close the soon to be bonded were. Jazz was smiling happily, happier than he'd seen him in some time and Prowl was, well he was as stoic as ever but Blaster could tell that the mech was relaxed, his hand occasionally resting on the small of Jazz's back. He'd gotten to know Prowl pretty well over the last eighteen months or so and it was nice to see him looking… well at the very least.

Optics drifting over the room, he spied Optimus and Ratchet talking quietly in the corner. Both noticed his gaze and threw him knowing acknowledgements, their smiles unable to hide the faint concern in their optics. Concerns born of experience not distrust both of them quite within their right to be wary about this particular bonding. Blaster also saw something else as he raised his cube to them, something in their faint smiles and the way their optics flicked over to the happy couple. He saw hope.

Blaster knew, as long as they had hope, things would work out, he had every faith in his friend. A faith that had never wavered in all the vorns he'd known him, never faltered until going through the last few months. What had transpired was not something he ever wanted to go through again. Turning back to the twins he shot them a grin. "I say we liven this party up, we shouldn't be living in the past, we've been through too much to not enjoy this moment, alright?"

The twins murmured their reluctant agreement and poured themselves some more high grade. Blaster smiled brightly at them, raising his cube for another toast. "We've been through the pits and come out the other side. To the future."

21 months earlier

"I'm gonna do it." Jazz bounced onto Blaster's berth, a wide grin on his face.

The red mech, peered up from his communications report, one optic ridge raised at his friend's exuberance. "Alright, I give… do what, Jazz?"

"I'm gonna ask him."

"Who, what?"

Jazz swatted Blaster's knee with a huff. "D' ya listen t' anything I say?"

Blaster shrugged with a grin, ignoring Jazz's subsequent pout. "Just tell me what you're going on about, some of us do have work to do."

Jazz sat back, looking quite pleased with himself. "I'm gonna ask Prowl to court me."

Now Blaster's attentions were fully focused on the black and white, he set his data pad aside. "Really? Why the change of spark, I thought you were gonna wait… get to know him better as friends?"

"Yeah, but I've been dancin' around it now for too long and what better way t' get t' know him?"

Blaster frowned, pondering the saboteur's chances. "But you don't even know if he's interested… what if he says no?"

"Mech, I have my ways." Jazz's visor flickered in a wink, his trademark grin spreading across his face. "Right I need t' find Sunny, he's gonna help me buff up my frame. Catch ya later mech."

"Yeah… be seeing you." Blaster muttered in reply. He stared at the door once Jazz had left and shook his helm. "I think someone's going to be in for a disappointment." He resumed his work and thought nothing more of it, he'd more than likely be the first to know if Jazz was successful, or not.

Strolling through the Ark, Jazz couldn't help but feel a little nervous as he headed for Prowl's office. He'd considered trying his quarters first but it was rare that Prowl finished a duty shift when he was supposed to. Jazz at least knew that much. Inhaling deeply outside the door, he pinged just once for entry. A calm, soft voice granted him access and he took a step inside, smile fixed on his face, no trace of nerves anywhere, apart from the flutter in his spark.

"Evenin' Prowler." He cheerfully greeted the tactician before making himself at home in the chair opposite. "Working late again?"

"Mm, I have much to do." Prowl replied simply, not once looking up from his data pads.

"Could ya spare a minute?"

The request was tentative, unsure, so very inot/i Jazz that it prompted Prowl to peer at him across the table. "Of course. What's the problem?"

Shifting in his seat, looking distinctly uncomfortable, Jazz gave a small shrug. "There's no problem, I just wanted t' ask you something."

Sitting back in his chair, door panels flaring out, Prowl clasped his hands in front of him. "Then ask."

"Right. Uhmm, yeah… I wanted t' ask you if you would consider courting me?"

Taken aback by the unexpected question, Prowl didn't answer immediately, his logic centre and tactical sub-routines sending him various scenarios and solutions to Jazz's question. On one hand, he could say yes, Jazz was interesting, a very capable and competent mech, a good Autobot and a strong fighter. Loyal and committed to the cause. He was also cheerful, spontaneous, a little carefree – sometimes careless – everything Prowl was not and that wasn't mentioning his field of expertise. Jazz was special ops. A special breed of mech, got the job done, no questions asked and if they got captured they would never be seen again, self termination being the most probably cause.

On the other hand, Jazz was simply put, everything Prowl was not. Prowl knew they'd clash, they already did in the battle meetings when they didn't see optic to optic. Both of them too stubborn to back down, to compromise. It would be a fiery relationship, of that Prowl had no doubts but would it be a happy one? Did they have enough in common? At this point, Prowl didn't really know Jazz all that well. Granted the mech had been spending a little more time with him, for reasons which were now obvious but spending time in each other's company was not really the same as spending time itogether/i. Plus there was the whole issue of duty and command structure and….

"Prowler?"

Looking back at Jazz, meeting his curious gaze, Prowl's face plates creased into a small frown. "Jazz… I'm not certain that would be a good idea." Catching the look of deep disappointment on the mech's face before it set in too firmly, he continued quickly. "It's just I don't really know you all that well and the probability we would have a mutually enjoyable relationship is less than fifty percent."

Jazz let out a short laugh. "Y' not seriously turning me down based on a statistic are you?"

"Well there are other concerns but at this point… yes… I'm sorry."

"Prowler! Mech, have you ever just wanted to take a risk?"

"Not really no."

"Court me… get t' know me that way… at least say you'll consider spending some time together just us…. To see if we do get on and have things in common."

Looking down at his desk, Prowl's frown deepened. "I don't know, Jazz… I feel like that would be getting your hopes up for something I may not be able to give you."

Jazz pushed himself out of the seat, a subtle sly smirk on his face as he perched on the edge of Prowl's desk. "C'mon, Prowler… y' know me enough t' know I ain't gonna bite ya… unless you're into that…" His attempt at vague humour was received with a sharp glare and a raised optic ridge. "I'm kidding, mech."

Prowl sighed at Jazz's genuine smile and glanced up at him. "I'm not sure why you're so insistent, you barely know me too."

Another shrug and Jazz leaned a little closer. "I like t' live on the edge, saboteur remember?"

"Hm, yes…"

"Look, Prowl," he deliberately emphasised the correct pronunciation of the mech's name, knowing how much that Prowl preferred it to his nickname, "forget statistics, forget knowin' each other, just come share high grade with me, in the rec room, just you and me and we can talk… then see where we're at, okay?"

"That sounds… reasonable."

"So you'll meet me?"

"…Alright… After shift, tomorrow."

Jazz smiled broadly, getting to his feet, ensuring a finger brushed over the edge of the nearest door wing, visor brightening when Prowl let out a soft, surprised gasp. "It's a date." He called out over his shoulder, heading to the door.

"Jazz…"

He turned in the doorway, smiling brightly at the tactician, who was once again studying his data pads with severe concentration.

"I'm not making any promises."

Jazz chuckled softly, undeterred. "Hear ya loud and clear, Prowler."

The door swished shut behind him and Prowl glanced up, a vague hint of bemused puzzlement on his face. "No Jazz… I don't think you do."

Catching a glance of himself in the mirror, Prowl examined his frame. There was the odd barely visible scuff which he soon polished out and his paint work for the most part still looked as good as new. He may work pretty much constantly but that didn't mean he didn't take care of himself. Against popular belief, Prowl took expert care of himself, he couldn't afford to be slack with his maintenance routines or his energon intake. Work needed to be done and he always made sure he was in top notch condition to ensure it got done. He couldn't afford to rely on anyone else, he'd tried that in the past and it had bit him on the aft, never again.

Sighing softly, absently wondering why he was suddenly making an effort, Prowl exhaled slowly and left for the rec room. Despite his misgivings, he had been flattered to have Jazz show interest in him. Word around the ark was that the mech was quite particular about who he dated and didn't enter into a relationship lightly. That was something they had in common at least, a common ground they could build upon.

Pausing momentarily outside the rec room, Prowl made his entrance. Thankfully the room was empty, most other mechs either on shift or in recharge. He had a sneaky suspicion that Jazz had somehow arranged their privacy, given that the rec room did usually have at least the odd mech floating about.

Spying Jazz sat in the corner; gazing out of a window, Prowl helped himself to a cube of high grade and filled another for Jazz. Heading over he cast a small smile at Jazz and offered the high grade. "Is this seat taken?"

Grinning Jazz took the offered cube and shook his helm. "Nah, I was savin' it for someone, but I don't think he'll mind."

"Indeed." Prowl sat opposite, optics fixed onto his high grade. Unable to think of anything more to say, he took a sip, optics watching Jazz over the rim of his cube.

"Soo…?"

They both began to say at the same time, stopping with a nervous laugh. Jazz ducked his gaze almost shyly, which surprised Prowl somewhat. Had Jazz always been this nervous and shy?

"So," he continued pleasantly, breaking into casual conversation. "Do you do this often?"

"Do what?"

"Ask your superior officers to share high grade with you?"

Jazz laughed at the faint smirk on Prowl's face at his innocent sounding question. "And, what if I did?"

"I would say that… this is fun for you… that you like attention…"

Jazz chuckled and raised his cube. "There's nothin' wrong with a bit of attention, Prowler… especially from the right mech." He grinned taking a mouthful of high grade. "But if you must know, I haven't done this since we woke up here."

"Really?"

"You sound surprised?"

Prowl winced slightly and took another sip. "I apologise, I should have been more tactful. I didn't mean to imply that…"

"Hey, Prowler, it's alright." Jazz smiled. "I'm well aware of my reputation. Price of bein' popular I guess."

"Still…" Prowl's doorwings flicked up just slightly, enough to catch Jazz's sharp attention. "It was improper of me, I meant nothing by it."

Jazz laughed properly this time and reached across to pat Prowl's hand. "Really, Prowl it's fine. Let's change the subject."

Nodding just once, not minding the brief lingering touch of his hand too much, Prowl agreed. "What would you like to talk about?"

"Well you're the mystery here, mech. Tell me about yourself, I want t' know everything." Smiling brightly, Jazz got them some more high grade and topped up their cubes. "We've got plenty of time."

They talked late into the night, getting increasingly over charged, not noticing in their idle chatter how much they were drinking. It was a novel experience for Prowl, to have someone show so much interest in him. He was by no means an innocent mech but most tended not to see past the cold, stoic exterior. He learnt that Jazz was far more intriguing than he had originally given him credit for. They talked about culture, Earth, their place in the war, some of their experiences before the Ark, it was a pleasant evening, that Prowl was surprisingly reluctant to bring to a close.

"Do y' have t' go?" Jazz's visor dimmed slightly.

"I'm afraid so, I have early shift."

"Shame… was gonna ask if y' wanted a night cap back at mine…"

Smirking, Prowl got to his feet, swaying ever so slightly, his door panels flicking up into a V to steady himself. "I shall have to disregard the fact you have high grade in your quarters, Jazz and bid you a goodnight."

Jazz also got to his feet, handling his high grade a little better than Prowl. He sidled up close to the Praxian with a sly grin. "Let me walk you back at least?"

Quirking an optic ridge, Prowl regarded Jazz curiously. "There's really no need…"

"I insist." Jazz snagged hold of Prowl's arm and gently guided him through the corridors. "Would be improper t' let y' make your own way back while over charged wouldn't it?"

Feeling a little woozy and suddenly quite tired, Prowl scowled a little. "I'm not over charged."

"Sure…" Jazz stopped outside Prowl's quarters and gave him a small smile. "It's been fun... I hope it wasn't the terrible experience you were expectin'."

Prowl bowed his helm slightly. "It was enjoyable, Jazz thank you."

"Enjoyable enough t' do it again maybe?"

Prowl met Jazz's hopeful gaze and could not think of a suitable reason why it would be a bad idea. "I'd like that. Seems we have a little more in common than I'd anticipated."

"Glad t' hear it." The saboteur grinned and took a bold step forward into Prowl's personal space. Before Prowl had even registered what was happening, Jazz was tugging him close for a kiss, his devious glossa, slipping between Prowl's astonished, parted lips, grabbing a sneaky taste of the tactician before withdrawing. Wearing a distinctly smug grin, Jazz backed off. "Look forward t' the next time." He grinned at the stunned mech and was gone, leaving a bewildered Prowl staring after him.

Heading into his quarters, Prowl touched his fingers to his mouth. It hadn't been an unpleasant kiss but certainly unexpected. Feeling suddenly out of his depth, Prowl frowned and flopped onto his berth. This was not the way to go about inot/i giving Jazz the wrong idea. His processor swirling from the high grade, he made a groggy vow to sort it out in the morning. He had enjoyed Jazz's company that was true, but one night wasn't enough to base the start of anything on, besides he still had his duty to think about and the consequences if it didn't work out. Sighing, he settled onto his side, no matter how much he liked the attention and the company, he had to nip it in the bud before things got out of hand and he found himself in too deep. Hurting Jazz's feelings was the last thing he wanted to do.

The next few days passed quickly. Decepticon attacks, human government relations, politics, small pranking incidents on the Ark, all things that required Prowl's attention. With the full intention of speaking to Jazz later, Prowl had put their 'date' to the back of his mind. He had more pressing issues to handle and coordinate, duties he could not be excused from. He had maintained a professional demeanor with Jazz, much to the saboteur's vague irritation and confusion. There had been a number of times when Jazz had lingered behind after meetings, hoping to catch Prowl before he rushed off to the next urgent thing. Prowl however, had other ideas and found himself consciously trying to avoid the black and white, knowing he should speak to him, let him know where he stood.

Soon enough, Jazz's impatience got the better of him and he managed to corner the tactician outside of the briefing room after a small command meeting.

"Prowl, can I have a word?" Jazz asked loudly, ensuring that both Optimus and Ratchet heard him. Prowl wouldn't be able to say no without showing himself up.

"Of course, Jazz." The tactician replied quietly, casting an expectant look at the saboteur.

Shooting him a wry grin, Jazz shook his helm. "In private…"

Both Optimus and Ratchet exchanged glances at that and discreetly excused themselves, while Jazz took a light hold of Prowl's arm, guiding him back into the briefing room, throwing the others a smile and a nod. His smile faded quickly once alone in the room with Prowl and he turned to face the mech with folded arms. "You're avoiding me."

Taken aback by the abrupt accusation, Prowl straightened and frowned. "You're exaggerating, Jazz."

"Then why haven't you spoken t' me since the other night?"

"Jazz, I…"

Sighing, Jazz lowered his gaze, interrupting Prowl before he had a chance to continue. "Look I know what you're going t' say and just don't alright. I know I can come on a bit strong but that's only because I kinda really like ya and I didn't mean t' scare ya off."

"Jazz…"

"Thing is y' see, I've had feelings for you for a while now and Blaster always said I didn't stand a chance and I was so made up when you agreed t' meet me, I get carried away, I meant nothin' by it and I know y' don't like t' be rushed. Just give me a chance, Prowl… I didn't take ya for the type t' leave me out t' dry, just think about it…"

"Jazz!" Taking hold of the smaller mech's shoulders, Prowl gave him a gentle squeeze. He couldn't help but feel guilty at Jazz's ramble, despite being put on the spot. The mech hadn't deserved the cold shoulder. "Stop okay. I haven't been ignoring you." It was almost true. "I've just been very busy. I have been meaning to speak to you, I apologise if you thought I was ignoring you."

Shrugging a little Jazz patted his hand. "It's alright, mech. I know ya get busy. Like I said I didn't peg ya for the type… Blaster was ready t' have words though." He grinned up at Prowl. The tactician didn't need to know that it had in actual fact been the other way round. Blaster had been the one talking Jazz out of kicking off about it and confronting Prowl. He'd gone so far as to stay with him all night, when Jazz had been severely over charged to make sure he wouldn't do something stupid and would more than likely regret. Prowl didn't need to know he'd obsessed and raged over their 'date'. If a kiss had spooked Prowl, that knowledge would send him running for the hills.

"I see," Prowl's mouth tugged upwards into a faint smirk, "should I look forward to having the rest of the Ark on my case?"

"Nah, mech… I talked him out of it."

Lie.

"I appreciate the support." Prowl murmured thoughtfully and took a step back. "It's not that I'm not interested in you." Another lie, well a half lie, Prowl wasn't really interested in a relationship, period. "I didn't mean to confuse matters, let me make it up to you and we can talk about it in a more convenient setting."

Jazz's grin widened. "Sure! My place or yours?"

"I ah… mine. If that's alright?" Prowl replied quickly, hoping that Jazz would at least give him chance to explain his feelings about pursuing a relationship or not as the case maybe, before jumping to conclusions.

"When?"

"After your mission? So two days from now?"

"Looking forward t' it." Jazz almost bounced out of the room, throwing Prowl a wave and a warm smile before heading to his post.

Off lining his optics a moment and pinching his nose bridge, Prowl silently cursed. He didn't want to damage any potential friendship that he could very well see developing between himself and Jazz but he hadn't taken into account the emotional factor. Jazz had seemingly beaten himself up for Prowl's inability to address the issue. He didn't want that, he needed to explain himself properly; he only hoped that Jazz wouldn't spend his time building up their second meeting into something it wasn't.

18 months earlier

As it turned out, Jazz's mission took him away from the Ark a lot longer than anyone had anticipated. Something had gone awry on his mission and he ended up trapped undercover at the 'con stronghold. Considering it a valuable opportunity to gather data, Jazz had defied orders to pull out and remained in the base for over a month. His communiqués suddenly stopped shortly after and fears that he'd been captured or worse were on the fore front of everyone's processors.

Prowl especially had been working tirelessly to try and find ways to extricate the mech or at least get someone into the base to ascertain whether or not he was even still alive. He knew deep down that guilt had no place in his spark but still it sat there like a poison, eating away at him. Maybe it was the knowledge that he had been intending to nip any developing relationship and subsequent feelings in the bud, let Jazz down easily before things had gotten too far. Nobody else knew and in all honesty they weren't close enough for him to be feeling so distressed over it. Yet for some reason, Prowl couldn't shake the internal guilt and regret that he hadn't at least tried. That he'd been completely unwilling to give Jazz a chance.

The longer time passed with no word from the saboteur, the longer Prowl dwelled on what he should have said and done. The more he wished he'd treated him better, given him a chance, even a small one, yet it was the story of his life. He didn't take chances, didn't act on impulse, played it safe and worked with statistics, probability. It was ironic how much he now wanted something now that he couldn't have it.

Jazz was gone just over two months before they received a garbled, urgent message. Somehow the mech had managed to escape the Decepticons after being imprisoned by them for the better part of half of his time absent from the Autobots. His special ops team was the first to decode his weak comm. call and badgered Prime into letting them carry out the rescue mission.

It was almost forty eight hours later by the time the team returned, carrying Jazz between them. The black and white had seen better days. Prowl was at the entrance to greet them, along with Ratchet and Prime but both commanders were shoved out of the way when Ratchet took control of the situation.

Feeling a pang of worry in his spark Prowl had hovered close by the med bay and requested regular updates, much to Ratchet's chagrin. Jazz's recovery period was a long one. It was a week before Ratchet would allow visitors and another week until Jazz was allowed to leave the med bay. Prowl had visited him on occasion and the two had gotten to talking. Much to Prowl's concern, Jazz was in a very sorry state. He wasn't aware of the full extent of his injuries and neither Jazz nor Ratchet would say much about his ordeal.

Signed off duty shift for the following two weeks upon leaving med bay, Prowl had requested a report from Jazz when he felt up to it. In entirely Jazz-like fashion the saboteur had cheekily talked Prowl into that second date they had never gotten the chance to have and in exchange he would give him all the reports he desired.

Feeling strangely elated at being able to spend some time with Jazz, Prowl hesitated outside the saboteur's quarters. His feelings on the matter had completely turned on their head since the mech had returned and Prowl simply pushed that quiet niggling doubt aside, prepared for once to take a risk. The door swished open before he could notify Jazz of his presence and he found himself unable to form words as Jazz grinned up at him.

"I knew ya'd be on time." He chuckled, stepping aside to grant Prowl entrance.

Giving a small bow of his helm, Prowl threw him a faint smile. "Seems you already know me quite well."

Jazz shrugged and busied himself pouring out some high grade. "I've had a lot of time t' myself, recently." He stated simply, flashing Prowl a grin as he handed him a cube. "Let's sit, I want ya t' tell me everythin' I've missed, kinda been feeling out of place if ya know what I mean?"

"I can only imagine how difficult it must be for you after so long away." Prowl murmured in sympathy.

"Pffft!" Jazz snorted suddenly, downing his almost full cube, startling the tactician at the suddenness of it. "S'not difficult… just want t' take the quick route. And I'm betting you know all there is t' know about everything that's gone on around here, don't ya?" Jazz helped himself to another full cube of high grade, offering Prowl some, who politely refused, still nursing his full first cube.

"I like to keep appraised of what's going on, yes. Wouldn't be much of an SIC if I didn't." He offered Jazz a faint smile, taking a sip of his high grade. "But you honestly haven't missed much. There was very little Decepticon activity while you were absent and politics at the moment seem calm so there's not mu—"

Jazz's laughter cut Prowl off in mid sentence. "Prowler, mech, I don't give a frag about politics or the 'cons," a flicker of something crossed his face, "especially the fraggin' 'cons, I've seen enough of them t' last me a lifetime."

Prowl mentally kicked himself for his insensitivity. "Jazz, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned them, it was insensitive of me…"

Jazz waved at him dismissively. "Don't worry about it, mech." He leaned forward, a sly grin tugging at his lip components. "What I really want t' know is; did ya miss me…?"

Optics flickering at the question, Prowl gave a nod. "Your presence was sorely missed, yes. Prime for one was…"

"Frag Prime." Jazz chuckled, leaning closer. "Did iyou/i miss me?"

"I ah… well; yes of course I did…" Prowl stumbled over his reply, wanting to express his care for the mech, his friend, without making it seem it had been all encompassing of his time. Truth be told he hadn't felt so awkwardly put on the spot in his life, the room quite literally felt smaller. He cared about Jazz and he had regretted not being prepared to give him a chance before he'd been captured but that didn't mean he was ready to declare any sort of infatuation or feelings for the mech, beyond his platonic affections.

Without really realising when it had happened, having been quite expertly flustered by the wily saboteur, Jazz was beside him, smiling warmly, his face mere inches from his own. Prowl jumped when Jazz's hand gently brushed over his upper thigh, he hadn't even noticed it there, was he that overcharged?

"I missed ya too…" Jazz murmured, putting his now second empty cube to one side as he leaned into the black and white.

Unconsciously, Prowl leaned back as Jazz advanced on him. This was too much, too soon, did he even want things to progress this far? Jazz frowned a little at Prowl's response but didn't withdraw entirely. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I… it's just… you've had a lot of high grade, Jazz and wouldn't you rather take things slowly…?"

Jazz let out a short bitter laugh. "Two months locked in a 'con cell not slow enough for ya, Prowl?"

"No, I mean yes! I didn't mean it like that, it's just you've not been back long and we've not really had chance to catch up…. And this is all quite sudden…" Prowl replied quickly, not wanting to hurt or offend the mech, given his recent misfortune.

"Not sudden enough for my likin'." Jazz smirked, leaning over Prowl once more. "C'mon, Prowler, show me you're not the sparkless mech everyone thinks y'are…" He murmured his tone low and smooth.

"I don't care for what others think of me…" Prowl murmured quietly in reply, his high grade now long forgotten as he was well and truly cornered by the smaller mech.

Jazz's smirk grew to a knowing smile. "Yeah ya do."

Prowl frowned a little, knowing Jazz's words to be true. His reputation as cold and sparkless had been well earned but inadvertently so, Prowl couldn't deny that it didn't hurt when groups of mechs pretended they hadn't seen him when he entered the rec. room. A brush to his cheek had his attentions fully concentrated on Jazz.

"Prove me right, Prowler, show me how… ihot/i I know y' are under all this serious thinkin'"

His intakes caught as Jazz's lips, tinged with the taste of high grade, brushed over his own.

A barely audible whimper escaped his vocaliser, it had been so long since anyone had even tried to seduce him, he'd almost forgotten just how good the feel of another could be. Jazz took his moment of weakness as cue and before he could stop it, he had a saboteur sat quite intently on his lap and their mouths were locked in a passionate kiss. The feel of Jazz's slick glossa languidly exploring his mouth, wiped out any current reservations Prowl had. It felt so good, how could he have forgotten how good this was, the dance of their glossa, the warmth of another's frame grinding intently against his own, hands stealing sneaky caresses of his doorwings? Oh how he'd missed feeling wanted by another and it wasn't long before Jazz had him gasping and moaning aloud with talented fingers and even more talented mouth and glossa. Prowl's body trembled with pleasurable sensation and all rational sense was flung bodily out of the nearest airlock.

The next couple of weeks flew by in a blur for Prowl. He saw Jazz often whether he was free or not. The mech would surprise him at the most unexpected times and on quite a few occasions they were almost caught in compromising situations. Nobody was aware that the second and third in command were engaging in relations of an intimate nature. Prowl simply became harder to find on and off shift which wasn't really a bother to anyone and Jazz walked around looking like the cat that had gotten into the milk. No one put the two together and began to suspect, merely thinking about Prowl in a relationship with anyone was mind boggling.

For Prowl though things couldn't have been more different. Jazz made him feel good, constantly paid him attention and made him feel an excitement he hadn't experienced since before the war started. The saboteur could be quite intense at times, especially if Prowl had been busy or unavailable to see him and was getting increasingly so the more Prowl refused to interface.

Initially Jazz had agreed to move slowly, take one thing at a time. Prowl hadn't wanted to divulge his reasons for doing so just yet and Jazz respected that but now he was starting to get frustrated. Couldn't he be trusted? Was Prowl comparing him to a past lover? If that was the case then why not talk to him about it? For Jazz time since his incarceration had gone by in a whirl, he'd had a taste of his own mortality and he hated it. Hated not being in control, not getting to do everything he wanted and the only thing he wanted right now, was Prowl.

Jazz had tried not to push too hard for more and Prowl always responded well to various other methods of seduction and always returned them in kind, if not surprising Jazz sometimes by his spontaneity. It was like a drug, the more he tasted, the more he wanted and Prowl was an expert at playing hard to get. It all formed into a game in the saboteur's processor, a way to cope with his frustration. He would push Prowl to his absolute limit and then take it away, making the tactician want more of him. Unfortunately for Jazz, Prowl was an expert at reverse psychology too and Jazz more often than not, found himself at the wrong end of his own tactics, practically yearning for the mech.

Pacing his quarters, Jazz waited for his friend to show. Blaster was the only one he'd told about him and Prowl and was always willing to lend an audio or offer advice if needed. The door swished open and the red mech strolled in, quirking an optic ridge at the agitated black and white. "Primus, Jazz… I had no idea you were so needy." He chuckled as he flopped onto the berth.

"Hey, I'm not needy, alright? Prowl's just drivin' me crazy. He knows me, why's he bein' like so stand offish wi' me?"

"Have you tried asking him?" Blaster asked wearily, having gone over this argument a number of times with Jazz.

"Yeah, ya know I have. He just says he's not ready." Flopping beside his friend, Jazz scowled. "What am I doin' wrong?"

"Well for one, you're obsessing again, Jazz – "

"—Am I fra—"

"—let me finish!" Blaster swatted him on the arm, scowling slightly. "You are obsessing, even the twins are starting to ask questions."

"Why would they be askin'? I've not said anything t' them."

Blaster quirked an optic ridge. "Oh yeah? Well tearing into them when Prowl had to deal with their last prank clued them in a little, Jazz. They're not dumb. You do talk about Prowl a lot more recently and for Primus' sake, mech; it's been two weeks!"

Jazz scowled, feeling somewhat ridiculous for his impatience. "So…"

"So… maybe back off a little, yeah? Give the mech some breathing room, let him miss you, let ihim/i come to you."

"Yeah I guess that could work." The saboteur mumbled sullenly.

Blaster sighed and shook his helm. "Look, Jazz I know you had a tough time with the 'cons and I'm not going to pry if you don't want to tell me, but you're home, you can relax. Prowl isn't going anywhere and if you're patient, I'm betting he'll stick around for the long haul. Just give the mech some time, that's all he's asking."

"Why won't he talk t' me about it then?" Jazz retorted, almost petulantly.

"Would you talk about all the bad stuff that's happened to you?" Blaster asked softly, knowing exactly what the answer would be. Smiling at his friend, he got up from the berth. "Need to chill, mech. You're going at this full throttle and if you're not careful you'll end up pushing too hard and something will give."

Jazz didn't respond. The rationality of his friend worked its way into his processor, causing his scowl to deepen. It all must seem pretty simple to someone not involved with the mech, but Jazz's frustration was eating at him. His natural paranoia gnawing at him, telling him that Prowl's reluctance was the mech pulling away, that he wasn't really interested, that he was being played – something that he would not tolerate, he was nobody's fool. Prowl's issues had to be confronted and dealt with as only he knew how. Clenching his fists, Jazz nodded to himself. He would wait in Prowl's quarters for him, try to seduce the mech into being his lover for real and if he still resisted, take control, demand to know why, force Prowl to at least talk to him. He deserved that much, right?

The meeting had been a long and difficult one, with not much to show for it. Making his way slowly back to his quarters, Prowl rubbed at his tired faceplates. He felt like the past week had been nothing but meetings and politics and he was feeling a little worn down by it all. His thoughts drifted to Jazz and a small smile graced his face. He was glad to admit he had been wrong about their personality clash. They could argue and they did when it was relevant to the job but when it came to their blossoming relationship, they always worked it out, not that they'd had much to work out.

Sighing softly, Prowl realised he missed the saboteur and decided to take a diversion to his mech's quarters. Pinging the door twice he frowned when there was no answer. Whistling traveled down the corridor and Prowl glanced up as Blaster came into sight. He gave Prowl a nod and a wave, fully intending to continue on his way. "Blaster..?"

Blinking in surprise the red mech regarded Prowl curiously. "Yes Sir?"

"Just Prowl, um… you're friends with Jazz, yes?"

"That I am, why what's he done?" Blaster grinned, knowing full well why Prowl was probably looking for him.

"Oh, nothing, I was just wondering if you knew where he was… he's not answering his door."

Blaster frowned a little at that. "That's odd, he finished his shift ages ago, here let me see if he's home." Keying in the door code, the red mech stepped inside Jazz's quarters when the doors swished open, leaving Prowl outside where he politely waited. "He's not here… Do you want me to comm. him?"

Prowl gave him a small grateful smile. "No it's alright, I'll find him tomorrow, goodnight, Blaster."

"Goodnight, Prowl." Blaster watched the mech leave, a slight frown on his face. When he was out of range, he comm'd his friend, receiving a deadline in response. "Oh… what are you up to, Jazz…?" He murmured to himself, locking the mech's door behind him.

His quarters were dark when he stepped inside, he hoped Jazz was alright wherever he was, he felt a little guilty that he'd been too busy to see him, but Jazz would understand that duty came first, in that regard they weren't too dissimilar from each other.

Not bothering to turn on his lights, he headed for the berth room. Deciding that tomorrow would be a better time to wash, he intended just to flop on his berth and recharge a full cycle for a change. Entering his room, he noticed something amiss. Detecting another presence, he froze in his tracks but before he could switch his optics to night vision there was a flurry of movement and Prowl let out a surprised mewl when he was firmly pressed up against the wall.

A familiar visor brightened in front of him and Prowl blinked as Jazz simply smirked and proceeded to lavish attention on his exposed throat with his hot mouth and glossa, clever hands wandering all over his body, digging into sensitive seams, making Prowl squirm and keen softly.

"Y' like that hm?"

"…Jazz… what… how did you get in here?"

"Doesn't matter, I'm here, I've missed ya, Prowler." He mouthed and licked up Prowl's throat relishing the taste, before nipping along his jaw and claiming his lips in a firm, possessive kiss."

"…mmpff… Jazz, slow down for a minute…" Prowl mumbled, breaking the kiss, panting lightly, his hands resting on Jazz's shoulders to keep him at bay temporarily.

"Why? Ya want this, I want this, why wait any longer, Prowl?" Jazz insisted, pressing close once more, his hands determined to wring more of those sweet noises from his lover. He moved quickly, peppering him in kisses, moving lower to bite at the plating of his throat, engine revving when Prowl let out a soft moan his frame shivering under Jazz's tender mercies. Not wanting to waste any more time, Jazz fumbled with Prowl's heated panel, ignoring the mech's whimpering protest, using his free hand he tweaked the edge of one door wing; grinning when Prowl arched into him. Keeping him distracted, he sneakily hacked into a small port in his lover and overrode Prowl's control over his panel. Claiming Prowl's parted mouth in a heated, fierce kiss; he ran his hand over Prowl's now exposed components, growling wantonly at the heat exuding from his lover.

Prowl was trembling now, optics dim, helm tilted back against the wall, doorwings quivering with sensation. He felt his panel retract, removed from his control – he felt a wave of anxiety at the loss - and he whimpered as Jazz began to stimulate his components and door wing simultaneously. Panting softly, he could only moan, allowing Jazz to have his way with him. Lost in the moment he tried to ignore the niggling doubt creeping into his cortex, he could trust Jazz, Jazz wasn't like anyone else, he'd waited, it had only been a couple of weeks but he'd waited, he respected him, he wasn't like the others.

Jazz found himself quickly losing restraint, Prowl was so beautiful like this, he loved seeing him let go, lose control and it felt so intoxicating to be the one that reduced Prowl to this pleasured state. Unable to deny his own pent up and highly charged libido, Jazz plunged a finger into Prowl's heated port, making sure to stimulate every sensor node, ignoring the keen and murmured request for him to go slower. Much to the contrary - now caught up in a haze of lust and arousal and long unanswered frustration – Jazz thrust his digit in and out of the tight port, slipping in a second digit, stretching his mech as he clenched about him, growling as his module pinged ready.

Prowl keened louder and a sudden rush of pain, ignited all of his senses, bringing him sharply back into the moment. Flashbacks of other moments, different mechs, being pinned by his door wings, he pushed back suddenly. "Jazz, slower please… "He managed to gasp as Jazz roughly pumped his digits repeatedly into his port, scissoring them, causing Prowl's request to trail off in a high keen, pain cancelling out any pleasure he might have felt from this moment. It was too fast, too soon, another flashback: more pain, losing all control, no, NO! "Stop… please…"

Jazz didn't register Prowl's sudden discomfort, too caught up in the moment; he fumbled with his own panel, roughly dragging his fingers free from Prowl's port. His senses were whited out in a white static haze of want, need."

"Jazz… please Nngh stop…"

Not hearing the plea, Jazz retrieved his module and without warning plugged into Prowl growling low and heady at Prowl's responding cry. The mech arched against him, trembling and Jazz didn't delay in sending hard energy pulses thrusting into Prowl's port, relishing each sound, vaguely surprised that the tactician was so sensitive.

"No!"

Jazz started suddenly as a hard shove slammed into his chest sending him careening backward, ripping his module from the tight port as he toppled onto his aft. "What the fra…."

"I told you to stop!" Prowl trembled against the wall, venom in his voice, his optics bright with anger, fists clenched by his side, his panel already closed.

Staring bewildered up at the mech – admittedly he'd never seen Prowl look so angry or so shaken up – Jazz couldn't formulate coherent words for a few seconds, before he whispered contritely, quickly putting away his own components with shaky hands. "I didn't hear ya, I got carried away… "

Glaring at him in silence for a few moments, Prowl finally relaxed a little and went to sit on the edge of his berth. Getting to his feet, Jazz frowned and tentatively made his way over, sitting beside the black and white with a sigh. "M' sorry, I guess I just let my frustrations get the better of me, I never wanna hurt ya, Prowl." Glancing at the silent mech, Jazz's frown deepened. "What's happened t' ya in the past?"

"Nothing it doesn't matter."

Feeling his frustration gnawing on his processor, Jazz let out a low growl. "For frag's sake, Prowl, I'm not any other mech you've been with alright?"

"I never said you were—"

"—Yet ya shoved me away, ya treat me like I was gonna… gonna irape/i ya! That's glitched, mech. Do ya really think I'm capable o' summert like that!"

Prowl watched as Jazz got up and began to pace, he could understand his frustration but that didn't make things any easier. Didn't make the bad memories any less difficult to shut out. "I'm sorry, I…"

"Damn right ya should be sorry, Prowler." Jazz interrupted, standing before the uncharacteristically subdued tactician. Sighing, Jazz's tone softened and he knelt before him, hands reaching out for Prowl's. "Look, mech, I don't understand what I have t' do t' get ya t' trust me. Ya need t' talk t' me."

"I don't want to talk about it yet, Jazz please respect that." Prowl murmured, optics fixed on their hands.

"Ya know I respect ya, Prowl but ya can't keep treatin' me like one of your past lovers. I deserve your trust; I don't deserve gettin' shoved onto my aft."

"I know, I'm sorry, I just… think we're moving too quickly."

"Quickly? Mech we're barely moving at all, all I want is t' be intimate with my supposed lover, is that wrong?"

"No, Jazz please try to understand…"

"I'm trying; Prowl but you're not making things very easy now are ya?" Squashing down his rising exasperation, Jazz tilted his helm at Prowl, scowling slightly. "Is this because I was with the 'cons for so long? Is that why ya don't trust me?"

Looking up in surprise, Prowl shook his helm. "No of course not, I would never –"

"—'Coz it's funny how before I went in ya were all over me and now… nothin'."

"I wasn't—"

"—I mean if that's the case then, ya could just do a mech a favour and stop leading him on, couldn't ya, or is the great reserved Prowl who nobody can get close to, enjoying his game too much t' stop hm?"

"Jazz no, this isn't a game I –"

Ignoring Prowl's attempted protests, Jazz kept pressing the point home. "—I mean that's how everyone will see it ya know? Ya led me on, only t' shove me away when ya remembered where I'd been, too dirty for ya huh?"

"Jazz what are you talking about!" Prowl frowned, confusion and frustration at Jazz's accusations hammering at his processor, which had already begun to ache.

"I'm talkin' about you thinking you're too good for me and that's what this entire charade has been about hasn't it? Everyone can see it!"

Wilting at the accusation, seeing the belief on Jazz's face at his own words, Prowl opened his mouth to defend himself, only to be defeated by his own shock at his lover's words. "I didn't realise that's how you felt… or how others had interpreted my actions."

Falling back on his knees before Prowl, Jazz grasped his hands, kissing them hard, pressing his cheek against them. "Prove them wrong, Prowler. Let me love ya, let me show ya how good ya can feel." He dropped his helm, kissing Prowl's fingers again, leaning up to brush his lips softly over Prowl's. "Show me how much ya trust me… let me in."

"Jazz I don't know…"

"I waited so long t' see ya, t' be with ya. That was the hardest part about being captured, I dreamt of the moment we'd get t' be together finally. Ya won't take that dream from me will ya, Prowl?" He stole a kiss before Prowl could respond, the mech murr'ing softly into it. Taking the opportunity, Jazz leaned forward moving over Prowl as his movements prompted Prowl to lie back on the berth. "I'm so used t' suspicious looks from everyone else here since coming back, I know you're different, Prowl. Ya trust me don't ya?"

Lying back, his doorwings flat against his back, Prowl nodded. Feeling riddled with guilt and regret at his rash actions and unfair reaction, he mewled into another stolen kiss. "Of course I do…I just—"

"-sshh…" Jazz mouthed his lips slowly, lying flush to his frame, hands beginning to wander once more. "If ya trust me, show me… let me love ya…" He smiled - he would finally get what he wanted - and kissed Prowl deeply, plunging his glossa deep into his warm mouth, exploring languidly. "I'll go slow as ya like."

Awash with feelings of regret, Prowl relented, letting Jazz's hands wander all over his body, pawing at his panel, retracting it once more as he climbed on top of him. Fighting the building reluctance and anxiety, Prowl dimmed his optics and could only moan and cry out as Jazz finally got his way. The mech plugged into his port, sending a wave of crackling energy through him, biting his lip at the initial discomfort, Prowl forced himself to relax, to try and enjoy it.

Truth was that he'd refrained from interfacing for so long that all his sensor nodes were hyper sensitive; every movement sent a wave of pleasure/pain through him. He wanted to enjoy it, he owed it to Jazz to let him have this moment, he wanted to prove to him it wasn't all a game, that he was truly serious about their relationship, that he trusted him. But try as he might, each pulse of Jazz's module extracted a whimper from his vocaliser. A cry of discomfort that would only be recognised as one of pleasure.

Overload eventually ripped through his circuits – Jazz hadn't been lying when he'd said he'd go slowly - obliterating his senses. Jazz thrust hard into his port with unbridled pleasure, crying out with a sharp jerk as overload crashed into him.

Transfluid burst into his port, filling him, dulling the throbbing ache inside him, yet even as he clutched at the berth, shaking with excess energy, sobbing with relief that it was finally over, Prowl knew he hadn't been ready.

From that first interface, Jazz came to expect it more and more, cornering Prowl wherever he could find him, be it his office or his quarters, sometimes not even waiting to get to either. Prowl rued the times he'd found himself in a cramped storage closet, or on a darkened corridor, while Jazz reduced him to a quivering heap. Giving him his due, Prowl couldn't deny that Jazz knew what he was doing. The mech knew his way around his frame and knew exactly how to get Prowl's attentions, distracting him entirely from anything else.

Their sessions were always, quick, rushed, urgent, like Jazz couldn't get enough, like it was a fix for him before the withdrawals became too much. Prowl had tried to introduce a semblance of affection and tenderness in their love making but it always became a fight for dominance for Jazz, a way to prove himself to Prowl. It was always rough, and overload always hit so quickly that sometimes Prowl didn't overload at all and was left highly charged and frustrated.

When he'd tried to talk to Jazz, really talk to him, the mech reacted defensively, usually shouting him down, accusing him of losing interest in him and occasionally even cheating on him, finding someone else, before blaming himself and admitting he wasn't worthy of Prowl. The rate at which Jazz went from defensive and angry to defeatist and needy was enough to give a mech whip lash. Prowl's logic centers had suffered regular shut downs at the torrent of emotions Jazz threw at him. It wasn't that he didn't understand the emotions it was just they usually came out of nowhere and were so intense and rapid that Prowl didn't get chance to compute before he'd changed moods again. When such occasions occurred, Prowl always awoke to find a needy, almost desperate Jazz begging his forgiveness and the cycle began again.

The times Prowl succumbed to his advances and needy seductions, the tactician noticed that Jazz was always more buoyant and performed his duties above expectations. When Prowl tried to talk to him and they argued, Jazz sometimes wasn't seen for a couple of days. He took it out on everyone; especially his friends and he became reckless on missions. Realising that their intimacy seemed to keep Jazz grounded, Prowl always relented to his wishes. The ache and discomfort he felt during had long since passed but the act itself became one of duty, not enjoyment. Sometimes their interfacing was so rough and quick that Prowl had to bite his lip to keep from crying out in pain, not wanting to make Jazz feel any worse about himself and end up doing something stupid like get himself or others killed.

If anyone knew how their relationship had developed, if Prowl had many friends he could confide in, he knew that they'd tell him it wasn't a healthy relationship. When Prowl was finally ready to open up to his lover, Jazz was always too caught up in his own head to be able to listen. Prowl was well aware that special ops was a difficult job, some of the missions infiltrating 'con bases were harder on Jazz than others, reminding him of his incarceration. Prowl knew it wasn't healthy but he was duty bound, he'd let himself get pulled in too deep and he dreaded to think about what Jazz would do if he ended their relationship because when he really stopped to think about it, he idid/i care about the mech, the mech Jazz had been before that fateful mission, the one that had riddled Jazz with paranoia and aggressive mood swings.

No, he would endure. It wasn't that Jazz was a terrible partner; he often treated Prowl to various gifts and surprises when he was in a good mood. He shared his interests with him, talked to the twins to lay off on the pranks when Prowl was swamped with work. Jazz did a lot for him, cared about him and all he seemed to want in return was Prowl's trust and the only way he accepted Prowl could show him that trust, was by interfacing with him, whenever he wanted.

Resigning himself to the fact that things weren't going to change, Prowl buried himself into his work. He stopped attending any social occasions, always with the same excuse. He accepted any mission that included travel, whether it be talking to Earth politicians – which he hated – to helping with peace proceedings in some part of the world.

Prime began to question this change in Prowl's behaviour, he was the only one close enough to the mech to notice the differences and in concern he had confronted Prowl about his insistence to accept missions or work that kept him locked away or absent from the Ark for long periods of time. The response had been bland, typical Prowl, logical to a fault and the conversation had been over, as quickly as that.

Realising that his self imposed isolation was becoming evident, Prowl virtually ostracized himself from everyone, even those that he'd had friendly acquaintance with like Red Alert or Ratchet. He cut himself off entirely, only dealing with anyone regarding work related matters. All of this to keep himself from having to relent to Jazz's insatiable demands. The emotional and physical strain began to take its toll. Despite Prowl's best efforts to keep himself refueled, the lack of recharge and maintenance meant he was always tired and weary which in turn made him short tempered and an even more severe disciplinarian than before.

Prime wasn't the only one who noticed the change in behaviour; Jazz catalogued and watched his lover, observing every difference, every time the mech disappeared from the base, how tired he looked and how much he was trying to avoid him recently. Jazz came to the only logical conclusion he could fathom given the evidence; Prowl was having an affair.

14 months earlier

"Jazz...? What's wrong...? I thought you were on shift."

"Y' thought wrong."

Tilting his helm at the somber mech, Prowl decided he was too tired for one of Jazz's games and headed to the washracks.

"Don't walk away from me."

Halting at the dark tone, Prowl glanced over his shoulder, flicking his door wings in irritation. Jazz was looking for a fight, something had him riled and it wasn't the sort of wound up he usually saw in him after a difficult mission or a memory purge from his incarceration, this was something different, something new.

Shaking his helm and sighing softly, Prowl knew that whatever he did they would end up arguing and so with that in mind, he headed for the washracks anyway, without a word. Stepping under the hot torrent of water, Prowl let his doorwings sag as the soothing heat seeped into his aching, tired joints. Optics off lining, he savoured the moments of peaceful solitude that he found in the shower.

Sensing movement behind him, Prowl braced himself for his lover's temperament. The tension that fell over the room, shattered any of the peace he'd gained and his joints were once more tense and stiff, door wings arched sharply on his back. "Jazz..."

"Shut up."

Optics onlining at the snarled words, Prowl started to turn, realising too late that this time, something was very wrong with his mech.

"JAZZ, nhhgh! What are yo-aahh!"

Prowl gasped, his voice catching as his face slammed against the cold tiled wall, faceplates scraping over their surface as Jazz pressed roughly against his back, hands gripping the sensitive edge of his doorwings tightly, painfully. He hissed as the smaller mech yanked the appendages down and growled in his audio.

"I told you t' shut up. I'm doin' the talkin'."

Hearing the threat in the words, Prowl stilled and waited for him to continue, trying to think up a way out of his predicament. Fatigued and in pain Prowl found it hard to think straight, all he could do was wait until Jazz told him what was wrong, there was nothing he could do until then.

"At least y' learn quick." Keeping the pressure on Prowl's door wings, Jazz dragged his fingers over a seam, visor darkening when Prowl failed to stifle a moan. "Let anyone else touch y' like this, iProwler/i?"

"What? No I - gaaahhh! Stop you're hurting!" Prowl gasped at the rush of pain as his left door wing was pulled so hard he felt the joint begin to give.

"iI'm/i hurting? Y' don't have the luxury of knowing what real pain feels like, mech."

"Jazz I know you've been through a lot but I- nngaah!" Prowl's words were cut off in a sharp yelp as Jazz tugged hard enough to snap part of the door wing joint.

"You don't know slag about what I've been through. I thought you were better than everyone else. I thought I could trust you." Leaning closer, Jazz inhaled Prowl's unique scent deeply, his olfactory sensors igniting with sensation, his circuitry registering the nearness of his lover. "They always say y' should keep your enemies closer."

"Jazz... please..." Prowl whispered, fingers curled into the cold wall, trying to suppress the pain signals shooting through his body from his torn joint.

"No... y' get nothin' from me. You ibetrayed/i me. Tell me who you're fraggin', Prowl."

"What? I'm not..." He winced as Jazz twisted the damaged sensor panel. "There's no one else, only you..."

"YOU'RE LYING!" Jazz roared, fist clenching and slamming into the wall beside Prowl's helm, shattering the tiles.

No longer willing to submit to his lover's irrational and unreasonable aggression, or to be accused of something he would never do, Prowl cancelled all the warnings from his injury and blocked the pain sensors with the last of his energy reserves. Planting his palms firmly against the wall, he shoved hard and with a roar of anger and frustration built up over the last few months, he toppled them backward.

Landing heavily on the smaller mech, Prowl did not waste time before raising his arm and planting his elbow into Jazz's chest with a satisfying crack. Turning he straddled the snarling, struggling mech and pinned him bodily to the wet floor. "LISTEN TO ME!"

"You're a liar, you betrayed me, you FRAGGER!"

"NO, Jazz! What has gotten into you? This has to stop!"

"Get your filthy, cheatin' hands off of me!" Jazz bucked sharply but Prowl's grip - much to his surprise - was firm, almost painful, keeping him pinned, imprisoned, trapped. Intakes heaving Jazz's visor flickered erratically as flash backs of his ordeal with the Decepticons replaced Prowl's face. He saw red optics not blue. "NOOO! I won't let you!"

"JAZZ!" Shaking his lover from his panic-stricken state, Prowl yelled at him to calm down to no avail, Jazz wasn't in the room with him anymore and Primus only knew where his mind was trapped. There was only one way he could see, to get out of this situation. Summoning his fading resolve, Prowl clenched his fist, gritting his denta. "I'm sorry, Jazz... I can't do this anymore..." Quickly releasing his lover, Prowl had mere seconds to reach the door and flee the washracks. Locking the door behind him, he slumped against the smooth surface, sinking down to the floor. Jazz pummeled on the other side, raging at his lover, back from wherever his mind had taken him.

Suddenly it fell quiet. "Prowl, lover... let me out... I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. Got carried away, just tell me why you been so distant from me, I promise I'll listen. C'mon babe... I need you...I love you, mech." The sweet words, the declaration of love it was too much, he'd heard the same words spoken many times before, usually after a bout of anger or when Jazz had gotten carried away during interfacing causing him pain.

Prowl wanted so much for Jazz to respect him, maybe even love him, yet as he had fallen deeper and deeper into their relationship, caught in a cycle he could no longer free himself from, Prowl despaired as he heard those words again. Part of his spark burned for those precious sweet moments, that voice. He would never willingly hurt Jazz no matter what he had done to him. It was his own fault that he had been trapped, clawing at some part of their relationship he could cling to. His own fault that it had gotten so bad, so twisted. Jazz needed help but Prowl no longer knew how to help himself.

"Prowler, I'm sorry... please?"

Letting out a soft weary keen, Prowl slowly got to his feet. Who would believe him anyway? Jovial, sociable, popular Jazz was suffering inside, damaged and only he ever got to witness it. As his fingers entered the door lock code, he stepped back, resigning himself to his fate.

Jazz stepped out, visor glowing softly, arms reaching for him, tugging him close. "Oh, Prowler..." Fingers brushed over the joint of the limply hanging door wing and Jazz nuzzled close. "I didn't mean t' hurt ya... I'll fix you up." Cupping the black and white's cheek, Jazz smiled and stole a kiss. "It'll be alright, y' know I love you, right?"

"I know..." Prowl whispered as Jazz embraced him tightly. Optics dimming, Prowl reluctantly encircled his arms around the smaller mech holding him tightly, possessively. The Autobots needed Jazz the way they knew him and Jazz needed him to keep the nightmares at bay. This was his duty now. No matter the cost.

"Who the slag did this, Prowl?"

"It was my own fault, I slipped."

"Likely fraggin' story." Ratchet growled as he deadened the sensors around the door wing.

Prowl remained still, stoic, unreadable as Ratchet tended to his injury. "Someone did a slag of a job patching you up. You should have come to me."

"I did at the nearest available opportunity."

Grunting in reply, Ratchet scanned the injury and replaced some of the pins in the joint. His scowl deepened as he examined the damage. The twisted metal wasn't the result of jarring because of falling against the appendage. The sensor panel had been pulled, no yanked from the joint and patched up with the skills of a field medic. Who could have done that, why? Why would Prowl hide the truth?

"There all done, how's it feel?"

Moving his door wing slowly, Prowl nodded in satisfaction. "It feels fine, thank you as always, Ratchet." Prowl slipped off the berth and headed for the exit.

"Prowl..." Ratchet chose his next words carefully. "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

Regarding him with his typical aloofness, Prowl's optics narrowed. "Implying?"

"Just that if there is anything..."

"There isn't."

"Hmm..."

"And I'll thank you for remaining out of my business." With a sweep of the door wings, now held tellingly high and rigid on his back, Prowl left, leaving a frowning medic staring after him.

/Ratchet to Prime./

/Prime here./

/...I need to speak with you.../

/I'll be in my office./

"I saw you coming out of Prime's office."

Sunstreaker glared at the red mech. "What of it?"

"I'm willing to bet that he spoke to you about the same thing that he spoke to me about." Blaster held his glare.

Sideswipe nudged his twin. "I knew he couldn't have just been meaning us."

"Shut it." Sunstreaker hissed before turning back to Blaster. "Tell us what you know."

Blaster snorted with disdain. "Jazz?"

The twins stole a glance at each other, their expressions turning grim. "Let's find somewhere more private to talk." Sunstreaker growled. "Meet you outside the ark, tonight, midnight. Make sure Jazz doesn't follow you."

Blaster suddenly became all smiles and patted Sideswipe on the back. "No problem, we need to arrange another game soon!"

"Huh?"

"Hey mechs, y' having a therapy session or something?" Jazz strolled up to them, mouth tugging upwards in amusement.

"Nah, just on our way to duty. Gotta run, don't want to piss off Prowl again." Sideswipe caught on Blaster's demeanour quick and grinned at Jazz, throwing him a wink.

"Pffft. What and ruin all my fun?" Sunstreaker snorted.

"Well I got to hit the washracks, be seein' you, mechs." Blaster smiled brightly and patted Jazz's shoulder as he passed him, his smile fading the instant he was out of view.

Arms folded, Sunstreaker growled again. "What took you so long?"

Blaster shrugged. "Jazz is no fool and when he's paranoid, he's even less of a fool. I couldn't risk it."

"Never mind, you're here." Sideswipe shot his brother a glance. "What did Prime tell you?"

Sighing softly Blaster leant against a boulder. "He said, that as a friend, I needed to keep an eye on Jazz and report any unusual behaviour."

"He said the same to us. He knows we're the closest to him but you know something else?" Sideswipe's optics flitted between them expectantly as they both looked at him blankly. "He didn't pull Prowl into his office once, I checked the security feed when I was on monitor duty, Prowl hasn't even been near his office."

"You think this has something to do with him?" Sunstreaker frowned as he thought over the situation. "Maybe he disapproves of their relationship?"

Blaster let out another sigh, deeper and more resigned. "Well... I don't think that's it..."

The twins glared at him. "What are you not telling us?"

"Prime knows, he's known for a while... c'mon it's not like Jazz is subtle about these things. He lets everyone know that Prowl is his every chance he gets and... that's not the only thing..."

"Go on..."

"He has been acting strange... more aggressive. In the morning briefing today he made snide comments all the way through Prowl's tactical proposal, it was... uncomfortable."

"Oh we missed that briefing, Red Alert was making sure we cleaned the waste filters properly this time." Sideswipe rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"I know what you mean though." Sunstreaker added. "Prowl was in the medbay last week, I went in after and Ratchet was all different kinds of glitching. Kept muttering something about stubborn fragger and not realising he had friends to turn to. Then when he left to see Prime. I hacked into his last notes."

"He must have been distracted if he didn't lock his console." Sideswipe muttered.

"I know and I found some notes next to Prowl. He has to have frequent treatments for subtle injuries, like a jarred door wing and..."

"And what?" Both mechs prompted.

"And injuries that could only be from," Sunstreaker squirmed, "rough interfacing, damaged plating, drained, that sort of thing. His latest? His doorwing had been torn from the joint and repaired by someone else."

"You're not suggesting that Jazz...?" Blaster murmured, not liking what he was hearing.

"It's been going on for months, mech." Sunstreaker paced in agitation. "Now I know Prowl's an aft but... if what we think is happening, iis/i happening, we've got to do something."

"Like what?" Sideswipe gestured widely. "Prime already suspects."

"Yes but Jazz is our friend." Sunstreaker insisted. "If we don't help him before Prime and Ratchet get enough evidence to step in and make it public, Jazz'll be ruined... everyone will turn against him. He'll not be trusted anymore, think about it."

Blaster frowned, letting the words sink in. "He iis/i our friend."

Defeated, Sideswipe gave a shrug. "So what do we do?"

"Offer Prowl a way to make his problem go away, give Jazz a chance to get the help he clearly needs. I've noticed how paranoid he is now, how aggressive, it's not right." Sunstreaker looked at them with earnest optics.

"Intervention." Blaster stated, meeting their gaze. "Prowl will resist."

"Mech's gotta learn that he can't do everything by himself."

12 months earlier

Sitting in his office, Prowl stared at the chronometer watching the hours tick by until Jazz came off shift. With each day he didn't know what to expect from Jazz. He found himself dreading the end of duty shift more and more. Jazz was getting worse, he knew this, he had only to admit it to himself. Some nights he'd taken to drugging Jazz's high grade just to get him to recharge without wanting to 'face him, it was despicable he knew this, but what else was there to do?

"No choice." He murmured to himself, to his empty office, the only place he found some solace now.

His door chimed, startling him out of his melancholy. "Enter." Straightening, he poked at a data pad, uncaring that it was blank.

"Prowl!"

Doorwings arching as the twins entered the room, Prowl grimaced. "I'm busy, what is it?"

Sunstreaker snatched the data pad and hummed thoughtfully. "You know something, Sides'?" He gave Prowl an amused look. "Prowl's lying to us."

"Do you always lie about being busy so you can pretend nobody cares about you?" Sideswipe folded his arms, no trace of amusement on his face.

"I don't have time for your games." Prowl snapped.

"Do we look like we're playing to you?" Sunstreaker spoke up, meeting Prowl's stern glare. "We know about Jazz."

Prowl sat back in his chair, unable to keep the shock from registering on his face. "What...?" His voice, despite his best efforts was a mere shaken whisper.

"Exactly." Sideswipe's glare softened at Prowl's reaction. "Why do you let him treat you like slag, Prowl?"

"He doesn't..."

"Stop lying." Sunstreaker growled slamming his hands on the desk, blinking in surprise when the stern, immovable mech that was Prowl jumped at the sudden aggression. "Prowl, he's our friend and you deserve better. Help us."

"Do what?"

"Bring Jazz home."

Prowl stared and stared, words, thoughts - coherent ones anyway - escaping him for the moment. The twins, the two mechs who gave him the most grief, the most work had come of their own accord to help him, well help Jazz. Their concern for him was genuine though, he wouldn't dare question it, it was so unlikely it felt surreal, so surreal, could it really be done? Together could they bring Jazz back from the brink of whatever the Decepticons had done to him?

For the first time, in a very long year and a half, Prowl finally had hope.

It hadn't gone well or easy or even smoothly but working together, standing by each other, they finally got Jazz cornered. His growing aggression and paranoia had become all too apparent when the mech had snapped during a sparring session and dislocated Ironhide's arm, leaving him in the training room while he destroyed Blaster's room, while the mech was there.

It had been then or not at all. Ratchet had been informed and prepared the med bay, Prime had removed Jazz from active duty and claimed the mech had fallen ill during a mission and was to be kept in isolation.

Jazz found himself locked in the med bay, in a room of his own, unable to hack his way free as all his codes had been changed, Red Alert had seen to that without asking any questions. Day and night he drove Ratchet crazy, yelling cursing, acting out violently like a caged deranged animal, calling out for Prowl.

It had gotten to the point that Jazz would only calm down when Ratchet had allowed Prowl to visit, then and only then had they finally gotten Jazz to talk.

Blaster beside himself with worry for his closest friend, but the twins assured him it was for the best. Every night Prowl disappeared into the medbay after a full duty shift and every morning he returned to his duties. Ratchet always made sure the mech refueled of course but Blaster had to wonder what it was doing to the tactician mentally.

Weeks turned into months and life went on as normal around them. They often met in the rec room, sometimes even dragging Prowl with them instead of him disappearing into the med bay, just because they think he deserved a break from it time to time. He never spoke of the progress he and Ratchet were making with Jazz, even Prime wasn't privy to all that information, he of course knew more than they did but then he was the leader.

Out of respect, they never pushed Prowl for answers, sometimes they never spoke at all, just gave him energon and made sure he spent at least an hour with them. Mundane chatter always seemed to help Prowl relax and through it they learned more about the mech than they had in the vorns they'd served with him.

Blaster and the twins found themselves respecting and liking Prowl for the mech he was, rather than assuming his stoicism and stand offishness were a personal slight against the rest of them. Prowl even - much to their surprise - had a sense of humour and when they did happen to mention Jazz, they all saw how much he cared, how much he wanted Jazz back the way he was before. That was enough for them.

Months gradually became almost a full year and occasionally Jazz had been seen outside of the med bay but only with Prowl or Ratchet, sometimes both of them. Nobody else got to speak to him and so when it was announced the Jazz had finally been released, his friends were the first to greet him.

u1 month earlier/i

The bonding announcement had come as huge surprise and like all good friends, they queried it with Prowl. The mech seemed happier than he had in a long time and Jazz was back to his normal sociable self. All traces of Jazz's problems seemed to have vanished.

In the end when Prowl had insisted that this was what he truly wanted and that he would tell them if anything untoward ever happened between him and Jazz. They had to relent and could only give their blessings and wish him luck. In truth they were happy for their friends, both of them. They both deserved happiness after everything they'd given for the Autobots. It was only right.

The ceremony was to be held in a month's time and the entire crew had been invited. It was the first bonding to happen in a long time and everyone got involved in planning and preparing the special day.

Blaster listened willingly to Jazz gush and plan and get excited over the plans. He stayed close to his friend when he and Prowl had to be traditionally separated two weeks before the big day. It was customary for them to not be allowed to see one another and for the briefest of moments, Blaster almost saw a flicker of the old jealousy in his friend. It was gone as quickly as it appeared and Jazz seemed content with the occasional comm. call from his betrothed.

The day came and the Ark was alive with excitement. The ceremony was as regal and as fitting as they could make it given that they were on Earth. Prowl and Jazz seemed delighted with everything, which was all that mattered really.

The evening drew to a close and Blaster said good night to the twins. Smiling at Prowl and Jazz snuggled quietly in the corner, he left the rec room. They were never to know what went on during Jazz's treatment, nor was it their place to know. Blaster only hoped that when the apparent happy couple disappeared behind closed doors, that they truly were happy and content with each other and dark secrets were hidden no longer.

In the end, he thought to himself as he slipped into recharge after flopping on his berth. Prowl had become Jazz's unwitting and unlikely hope in the darker times of war. It had been a rough journey to get there and he knew his friend would always be haunted and perhaps even damaged but at least Jazz now had someone beside him to hold him when things threatened to crush him.

He had never foreseen himself and the twins becoming friends with Prowl but now that they were - and in an ironic twist of fate they were particularly over protective of the tactician now too - he only hoped that Prowl knew they were there.

Should he ever need them.