AN: This was supposed to be a gift drabble for Lady_katana4544 on LiveJournal, but I think 5 pages, and over 1500 words is a little long for a drabble. So, now it's a one-shot! The Prompt was Prowl/Jazz/Beloved. Don't know if this was what she was expecting but, hey, it's written, it's done, and I am going to bed!
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A figure crouched in the shadows of the rafters. No one could see him here, not even the Autobots' Head of Security's camera could see him here. His armor blended with the wall well. The hustle and bustle of the Recreational Room below roared on, a constant droning sound that would distract anyone else.
He was better than that.
He stood up quickly as it became apparent that his elusive target was not in the flurry of activity underneath his feet. He jumped nimbly from rafter to rafter, making no sound as his feet hit each beam. None of the Autobots beneath him noticed his passage.
They never look up… He thought with disappointment bordering on contempt. Either way, it neither helped his case nor hindered it and he continued on. He reached the wall and quickly and quietly removed the grate covering the ventilation shafts. He slipped inside and closed the grate behind him.
No one ever realized he was there.
---
Prowl sat in his office reading over the latest report. It wasn't much of a read, just the updates on the newest security systems that Red Alert had installed for the humans. A quiet read on a rather slow afternoon. According to the human meteorologists (who tracked and knew more about Earth's fluctuating weather patterns better than the Autobots ever could), the day in the region known as the Rocky Mountains was to be sunny, pleasantly warm, with a only a touch of wind.
Perfect driving conditions and a nice way to spend an afternoon.
Now, if only his beloved actually got here on time, they would have already been gone for a few hours. Prowl had even taken the afternoon and evening off, at the behest of his beloved. But for some reason, the mech just wasn't here.
He sighted and placed the data pad back on the table in his outbox and stood up. He stretched once to get his stiff hydraulics moving again, and headed for the door. A quick command to the room's door computer via databurst and he was out in the hallway, his office locking securely behind him.
He didn't need the Twins running amok in his office again.
---
No he wasn't here either!
Crawling through ventilation shafts, peering in on several rather– ahem– private situations, getting dust on his shiny armor and still there was no trace of his target. Either the slagger had forgotten their little rendezvous or he was on his way to the rendezvous. Still, it was a pain in his cortex to deal with his elusive, though beloved target.
As he crawled through the ventilation shafts and climbed out of it onto the rafters, a flash of black, white, and red among the other various brightly colored mechs caught his attention. Could it be…? The mech thought as he tailed his target from above. He recognized the distinct swagger, straight back structure, and the beautiful doorwings that belonged to his target.
Faster than the optic could see, he dashed across the rafters and quickly reached the other side, directly above the front entrance of the Autobots' ship-turned-base. The black and white mech he was tailing continued walking on, ignoring everyone around him except when directly spoken to. But he always cut the conversation short, saying "I have somewhere to be." The only way that the shadowed mech could even hear him was thanks to the echo effect the rafters provided.
Having overly sensitive audios didn't hurt either.
The arrogant black and white mech continued on and out of the safety of the Autobot base, not once looking up at the mech directly above his head. The shadowed mech grinned, fangs flashing in the dim light from below. "Perfect…" he breathed.
Every piece was falling into place…
---
Prowl stepped outside the Ark and paused to savor the feeling of the breeze on his armor. The Ark wasn't uncomfortable, but its atmosphere could become stagnant on several occasions. Sunlight warmed his armor, giving the feeling like he was a human being wrapped in a warm blanket. Several humans had described the sensation to him before, but it was a much better example to be shown and given the experience. It made him feel more at ease. Maybe the Ark crashed into the side of a mountain in the desert for a reason.
The location was certainly better than say… the Arctic Circle or the middle of the Pacific Ocean!
He didn't envy the Decepticons choice of real estate!
He headed for a natural ramp that led up the side of the volcano/mountain the Ark was buried in and began to climb up. It was an easy climb and in almost no time, he reached the large flat area which served as both a vantage point and a secret point. It wasn't exactly secret since everyone on the Ark had been there at least once, but it was a quiet place, away from the furious activity of the Ark's interior.
He walked to the edge of the ledge and sat down gazing out over the flat dry expanse of desert. The flatness and the sharp mountains reminded him a lot of home. Of Iacon's gleaming skyscrapers and bright plazas and plateaus.
He didn't even notice the shadow behind him, something glinting in its hand.
---
The mech was his.
The mech was finally going to be his.
After the hours of chasing and looking for this mech, here he was.
Totally alone and totally unaware.
As silently as he could, he crept along the ground toward the back structure of the black and white in front of him. He even stopped his intakes so that the sound wouldn't alert his target of any potential danger.
Three…
Two…
One!!
And he launched himself at the mech, arms outstretched with a half-battle cry.
---
The only warning Prowl got was a cry and then his assailant was all over him and they were tumbling down the side of the mountain. The assailant was latched onto his back, between his door wings, and refused to let go, even as they bounced and rolled down the side of the mountain. Prowl gave out a cry as several rocks hit his doorwings with a rather large amount of force, leaving dents.
They finally bounced one final time and blessedly came to a stop, with Prowl's face in the dirt, his assailant above him still latched onto his back. He lifted his helm up and spat rocks out of his mouth, the dust irritating his glossa. Suddenly, a helm nuzzled against his own and Prowl tried to pull away, but the mysterious mech wouldn't let him.
The mystery mech bend down, right next to his audio, and whispered, "Hey, copper… Did you like that…?" The voice was husky and panted, but satisfied and Prowl recognized it in an instant. But before Prowl could make an answer, the mech ran one hand down his doorwings, touching it so lightly that it sent shivers down his spinal relay as the sensations were interpreted.
"Would you mind–" His voice hitched as the mech ran another hand down his doorwings, "–would you mind getting… getting off me…!" The mech in question's response was to bite down teasingly on his chevron.
"Now why would I do that, baby…?" The mech whispered. Prowl pressed for an advantage.
"Because you're my beloved…" He tried. Hopefully that would get the mech off him. Not that the sensations were painful, of course. But in case it didn't…
Prowl (using skills he only saved for battle) flipped himself and the other mech over so that Prowl was now the one on top and the other mech beneath him.
Jazz's surprised face greeted the tactician's one somewhat malicious grin. "Surprised?" Prowl asked the saboteur beneath him. Jazz just gaped for a moment longer before acquiescing his defeat.
"Okay, Prowler, you got me!" Jazz said with a large grin on his face.
"I think you," Prowl poked his beloved in the chest, "are the one who should be called Prowler, the way you were tailing me."
"How did you know I was tailing you!?" Jazz asked incredulously.
"I didn't," Prowl replied, "But only you would think of attacking me from behind."
Jazz was about to say something more, but a swift kiss silenced him. Jazz melted under the touch of his lover's kiss. Prowl pulled away, far too quickly for Jazz's liking. He pouted like a disappointed sparkling.
"Prowl!! Don't tease!!" He said angrily. Prowl swiftly got off of the other black and white.
"Now, where's the fun in that?" He said, his arrogance coming through again. Jazz bristled with indignation.
"You. Me. Here. Now." He said, punctuating each word with a finger stabbed into the ground. Only Jazz's light grin under the scowl made Prowl say, "No."
Jazz was about to say something else, but Prowl jumped to his feet and swiftly transformed and sped off across the desert. Prowl (knowing that he promised to make his beloved happy) broke a few speed limits, just as Jazz quickly transformed and sped after him. They raced each other across the desert and even into the surrounding forest and mountain passes. They had no idea where they were going, but they had the entire afternoon and evening to themselves.
As the spead along a highway surrounded by mesas, fields, and mountains, Prowl opened his comm. link. :Jazz?: A ping announced Jazz's connection.
:Yeah Prowler?:
:Jazz, my name is Prowl. Not Prowler. And what did you do to me up on that ledge? I know it wasn't a tackle, because you didn't fight.:
Jazz's laughter rang out over the line. :Oh that!? How much of human culture do you know about Prowl?:
Prowl didn't grace that with an answer. Jazz wasn't fooled.
:For the record, it was called a 'glomp.':
:Glomp?:
:Yeah, glomp.:
As Prowl pondered about what a 'glomp' was, Jazz sped past the police cruiser and the race continued.