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Please R&R

(crack, Drunk!Jazz, Prowl and the ARK crew. Drabble based around the quote 'Officer! I swear to drunk, I'm not God!' Enjoy!)

Prowl grumbled as he finished the last report of the day, rising from his seat to stretch, flaring his camped doorwings with a deep intake of atmosphere.

"Drop this off then go read." Prowl said to himself exiting his office, making sure it auto-locked, inclining his helm at Red Alert's security camera that lurked just outside his office, the camera swivelling to watch him prowl down the hall.

The Praxian shuffled down the orange corridor, pausing to rub at his optics as he passed the Rec-Room where Bumblebee's sparkday party was underway, bright lights and heavy beats dazzling him for a moment as the doors reeled open and a giggling Bluestreak stumbled out into the corridor, his doorwings fluttering erratically, both appendages suspiciously wet and shiny.

"Bluestreak," he greeted his protégé as the grey Datsun leaned against the wall jumping in surprise when his fellow Praxian called his name.

"Hi Prowl!" the sniper chirped clearly embarrassed, trying to tuck his wings behind his bulk against the wall "What are you doing this afternoon? Are you coming in for a drink?"

"I just finished my shift," the SIC shrugged taking a secret pleasure in watching his guilty adoptive youngling squirm, mentally making a note to trash the twins in a training exercise next morning, regardless of the state they were in after the party ended so he could give them a proper warning about courting his adoptive son. "And no, you know how I am with parties and such, anyway, may I ask who was drenching your doorwings?"

"Uh…" the young Praxian fidgeted "Sunny and Sides poured High Grade over them. Umm…By accident! And they uh… helped me get it off… using their… servos! Not glossa! Servos!"

"Very well," the black and white elder mech replied not believing a word. "If you go back in to the party, tell Jazz not to drink too much High Grade."

"Too late," Bluestreak chuckled nervously rubbing the back of his helm sheepishly. "He took off for a drive around the corridors earlier. To be fair he managed to drive in a straight line for four second before ploughing into the opposite wall."

"I swear he's going to get himself killed" Prowl sighed shaking his helm "I'll take care of it Blue, enjoy the rest of the afternoon"

"See ya Prowl!" Bluestreak chirped brightening as his mentor and 'Sire figure' walked off the corridor.

"Oh Bluestreak!" a voice sing-songed out of the door, barely audible over the pounding music that had rocked the ARK since 11am "we weren't finished!"

"Eep!" the sniper squeaked as a red and a gold arm grabbed him and dragged him back into the party.

==Outside the ARK==

Prowl found Jazz driving a squiggly figure of eight in the afternoon desert heat, a dust cloud erupting from underneath the rotating tyres, spraying grit and dirt over Prowl's pedes as the TIC drifted past. The SIC growled, coughing away the dust placing his servos on his hips, doorwings flaring up into a soft agitated 'V'.

"Jazz!" he snapped at the overcharged bot that jerked into an emergency stop with a yelp, transforming to stand at attention before almost yelling at the SIC.

"Officer! I swear to drunk, I'm not Primus!"

Prowl's optic ridge twitched in frustration "I hate you when you are drunk Jazz" he grumbled coming forward to peel off the two bumper stickers that were plastered across Jazz's chest, 'Earth first. We'll screw up the other planets later' and 'I brake for Tailgaters'. "I take it these are from Sideswipe?"

"Na-uh" the drunk bot shook his helm trying to lean on Prowl and nuzzle him "They from Optimus, he was going to give the earth one to Megatron, but I snuck into his office" the saboteur whispered loudly, snickering childishly "Did you know he has a folder of all of Elita's kinky pictures she sends him?"

"I didn't want to know that Jazz" Prowl grumbled finally letting his bleezing bondmate lean on him as he stumbled towards the ARK. "Let's get you to your berth"

"Oh, Officer" Jazz cooed leaning up slightly to nuzzle Prowl's gleaming ruby chevron "Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?"

"We're bondmates Jazz"

"I would remember berthing a pretty thing like you" the slightly smaller black and white mech protested giving Prowl's aft a firm grope.

Prowl smirked at the visored mech "The helm-ache you are going to have tomorrow is sooo going to make up for what you are doing right now"

==The Next morning==

"Kill me now!" Jazz whined tucking his aching helm under the thermal blanket "Prowler! Put me out of my misery!"

The Praxian mech didn't bother to look up from his data-pad filled with the writings of a fantasy novel "Sorry Jazz, I like you alive, though I was tempted to after you groped my aft and doorwings in the hall last night. Ratchet is dishing out the pain killers when he wakes up."

Jazz groaned ignoring his mate; hissing when a particular aching thrum of his processor rippled through his helm as a flash of memory made him cringe. The mental image of himself dancing with Blaster, tossing back concentrated High Grade shots while singing "One Tequila, Two Tequila, Three Tequila" and shouting 'Floor' at Ratchet as the medic's systems gave up trying to consume the fifteenth High Grade cube.

"Remind me to tell Bee to never have a party again" he mumbled from under his covers, his 'oh so sympathetic mate' giving a snort of amusement as he checked the time, putting his data-pad into it's special shelf as he made his way to the door.

"I'll see you later Jazz." Prowl smiled to himself as his mate snuggled into the berth with another pained whine. "The Twins are meeting me for a training session soon."