Red Alert's razor sharp focus was on the keypad to the hangar giving Jazz a rare moment to look at him, watch him. Long deft fingers twisted wires and wrenched the warped pieces of metal out of the way; the result of Ironhide's latest tantrum. Not for the first time Jazz wondered what those hands would feel like stroking his chest and back. They looked so delicate when they were typing on a keyboard or drumming on the meeting room table, but the ease with which he manipulated the mangled metal spoke of their strength.

"What, Jazz?" the security director asked. Jazz blinked and a smile quirked the corner of his mouth. He stepped out of the shadow he thought he'd been hidden in. Red Alert didn't pause in his work, the slight frown that was always on his face deepened for a second as he pulled out another set of wires and inspected their casings. Jazz let his optics trace over his profile, down his jaw line and the graceful curve of his horns. As far as he knew Prowl was the only one outside of medics who had the honor of touching his horns.

"Takin' notes," he said easily. "Gotta keep my codebreakin' skills sharp an' what better way to learn than watchin' a master work." He met Red Alert's optics when the red and grey mech gave him an annoyed look. Crystal blue, he had noticed some time ago closer to the center there was a faint starburst of gold. If anyone else had noticed they hadn't mentioned it. He could see the gold now every time he looked at Red Alert. Close to his left optic was a deep scar where someone had tried to remove his beautiful optic. Jazz's fingers ached to brush across the old wound and ask what had happened.

Red Alert turned back to his work, stalwartly ignoring Jazz. Since the mech hadn't told him to leave Jazz walked closer and knelt next to Red Alert's small sleeve of tools. Red Alert didn't have the lean graceful lines on his frame like Prowl. Prowl was almost like a glass sculpture, delicately curved with just enough sharp angles to make him feel dangerous. Red Alert was stockier, heavier with alloy on his legs and shoulders. He was like a stone carving, heavy and dark. The sharp points of his horns caught the hall light and sparkled like diamonds for a brief second until he lowered his chin to see the circuits better. His heavy shoulders hunched a little more as he juggled a mess of wires and circuits. They were less than an arm length apart but the distance could have been a star system.

Jazz handed him the wire clippers before he asked. He stared at him for a few seconds, blue-gold optics flashing over him with trademark suspicion. But he took the clippers, his strong fingers grazing Jazz's sensitive ones. The distance Red Alert kept between himself and others wavered and Jazz felt like if he leaned a little closer to the mech he'd get through. He was close enough now he could smell the subtle spice of Red Alert's polish. Nothing brazen like Tracks' or Sunstreaker's, just a few tantalizing notes that hung in the air when he moved. He could imagine the smell was strongest in the juncture between his shoulder and neck. He imagined running his lips over that spot, tasting him, filling his mouth with that spice.

Red Alert worked in silence for a few more breems. Jazz felt almost peaceful in the hallway with him. So often the mech was dividing his attention between a dozen different things it made him seem twitchy. When he was focused on one thing like this the walls he kept up slowly dropped, just a little. Just enough Jazz could see faint flashes of who Red Alert was when he was alone.

Prowl had it too, an invisible wall that kept mechs and femmes at arm's length. He and Red Alert were like fortresses. Guarded and fortified against any and all intrusion, everything they were closed and locked up tight. Jazz's specialty was infiltration and he was desperate to know what exactly was behind Red Alert's walls. He wanted to know who it was the red and grey mech kept so protected from the world. The scars on his neck weren't the clean cuts from blades but gashes, possibly from another's horns. He wanted to know who would want to hurt him like that. "Why do you stare at me?" Red Alert asked as he started to reassemble the keypad's innards.

Jazz blinked, caught off guard. He'd never had anyone catch on to his staring while he had his visor on. Sometimes when it was being repaired or if it was late and he wasn't wearing it he'd forget and stare at mechs. Red Alert kept his hands in the circuits but turned his attention on Jazz. His blue-gold optics fierce with questions and suspicion were reflective like glass not giving Jazz any indication of his thoughts. Jazz tried to come up with an excuse for his odd behavior but the longer Red Alert looked at him he realized the mech wasn't going to put up with some half-aft excuse. Jazz's voice was a little husky when he spoke, "I like watching you work." His voice seemed too loud in the quiet hall. He searched Red Alert's face, watching the mech's frown deepen and his optic ridges furrow.

Bright blue optics with their starburst of gold sharpened and he angled his chin down bringing his heavy horns forward. Like an op gone bad, Jazz felt the walls coming up, closing down the dark mech. Hostility radiated from him like guards being summoned and guns being aimed.

Choosing to retreat and fight another orn Jazz backed away with his hands held out in surrender. He left the hall, leaving Red Alert to work in peace while he turned over their brief exchange. He had no idea what he'd done to set the mech off. He still did the same thing with Prowl, inadvertent words or sentiments that could close the Praxian tighter than a vault. Rubbing his thumb over a scar on his finger while he thought he keyed the lift. He couldn't see Red Alert anymore but he stared down the hall anyway. He'd felt it for the briefest moments when Red Alert had been focused on the key pad, he'd almost seen the mech behind the walls.

The lift chimed and he stepped in with a quiet sigh. Leaning against the back wall he shuttered his optics and took a deep breath committing to memory Red Alert's spice.

oOo

A/N: I didn't know I wanted this pairing to happen until I started writing this.

WE NEED MORE RED ALERT/JAZZ

And, honestly, this was just going to be a little oneshot, but I'm committed to it now. We're getting a full length Red Alert/Jazz fic. I have no idea what the story will be yet, but by the gods, it's happening. So this chapter may get tweaked a little once Master's Apprentice is wrapped up and I settle on a storyline.

But thank you for reading and reviewing!