Hello All, and welcome (or welcome back) to the world that started with Making Sense of the Illogical. If you don't know what that is then go read that before you read this because this is the SEQUEL!
That's right. I promised one (years ago) but circumstances haven't been kind enough to allow it to get written so the only thing I can do is beg for forgiveness and assure everybody that my stories haven't been abandoned, just postponed in the wake of real life.
Story Facts and Figures: As stated previously this is the sequel to my earlier story Making Sense of the Illogical, but it can probably be read on it's own without reading that first, though it will be referencing a few things from that story. It has been completely plotted out and should have 10 chapters if I stick to my plans. I will TRY to update on a regular basis, but I make no promises as circumstances can change at the drop of a hat.
Warnings: This has 'M' rating (as you'll see from the first chapter) and will be dealing with mature and possibly disturbing subject matter. I'm probably being too cautious but better to have the higher rating now then have to change it later.
Also on a side note I will be reposting edited chapters of Making Sense of the Illogical when I have time as well to fix grammar and sentence structure errors if anyone is interested in reading a slightly more legible version.
And now if you got through all that, Drumroll Please
Here it is, the sequel to Making Sense of the Illogical!
Please feel free to review and leave feedback, ask questions, make comments, point out errors (I think I got all the big ones but nobody's perfect) or just say hello. I'll do my absolute best to respond to each and every one.
Oh, and I don't own Transformers.
Enjoy!
Making Sense of the Incomprehensible
Chapter One
_
Klick-One Earth Second
Breem - 8.3 Earth minutes
Cycle-One Earth Hour
Joor – One Earth Day
Orn - About Two Earth Weeks
Vorn - About 83 Earth years
Jazz was now firmly (extremely firmly) convinced that Prowl was doing it on purpose.
Had to be doing it on purpose.
Because if he wasn't doing it on purpose then he really was that oblivious and in that case Jazz would just surrender the whole of the Autobot army to the Decepticons right now because with a head tactical officer who was that oblivious they were all pretty much doomed.
Okay maybe that was a little overdramatic (even for him), but it was to the point where Jazz was okay with being overdramatic because he was being driven completely and absolutely insane.
By Prowl.
Prowl and all the subtle ways that the tactician had been driving him to the brink of sexual frustration through 'unintentional' physical contact.
It hadn't even been noticeable at first for all Jazz's supposed superior power of observation.
It was just a few times where Prowl's finger digits had lingered just a klick too long before accepting the data-padd that he was trying to hand to him here, a few friendly touches on the shoulder that had turned into a light caress there and a few incidences (at least one of which was still tagged in his memory banks because the resultant chaos had been so amusing) where Prowl had 'accidently' collided with the saboteur, causing frame contact.
They were all little things that wouldn't mean much if you considered them individually.
But if you put them all together…
Jazz silently groaned at the hopeful place his reasoning had brought him to and glanced at the mech by his side, letting out an unintelligible huff of pure frustration.
If you put it all together then Prowl had to be doing it intentionally because if he wasn't…
If he wasn't then…
Then…
He was broken out of his thoughts when Prowl stopped walking, deliberately (at least Jazz hoped it was deliberately) brushing up ever so softly against his left side.
There they stood for an instant: Shoulder joint touching shoulder joint, hands knocking together fleetingly, hip platess making the smallest amount of contact, and fields intermingling.
Jazz felt shivers of pleasure go through his frame at the short-lived, but intensely intimate, physical exchange.
"Jazz I see our destination ahead." Prowl said, breaking the physical contact almost as soon as it happened and moving briskly through the streets of Iacon to the brightly illuminated energon bar.
But not before letting his fingertips trail lightly up the inside of his hip plate, eliciting another shiver of pleasure from the saboteur.
Jazz let out another huff of frustration after Prowl was a few steps ahead of him, now completely convinced that it had to be intentional.
It was official, Prowl was a slagging tease!
-TRANSFORMERS_TRANSFORMERS_TRANSFORMERS_TRANSFORME RS-
It had been Prowl's idea to use their free night in Iacon to go to Maccadam's Old Oil House.
To say Jazz had been pleasantly surprised that Prowl would want to visit that particular establishment (he wasn't exactly known for his high grade consumption) of all things when they had discussed what they were going to do with their night off (and the newly acquired promised half of Optimus's betting pool winnings) in Iacon was an understatement.
When he had been planning their time off the idea of a visit to Maccadam's had passed through his processor more as an amusing thought than a serious destination point before being dismissed by Jazz as being too frivolous a place to take prowl to.
He should have known better by now he supposed.
If he had learned anything about Prowl over the past six orns it was that he didn't know Prowl half as well as he had thought he did.
And wasn't that a funny thought?
He had been acquainted with the second in command (though that hadn't been his position with the Autobot's at the time) since almost the beginning of the war with the Decepticons and they had been friends and fellow officers for vorns and vorns and in that time had become each other's closest friends and confidants.
You'd think that after so many vorns of friendship they would know everything there was to know about each other.
But Jazz was quickly becoming cognizant of the fact that that just wasn't the case. Six orns into their entirely new and uncharted relationship had shown him just how little he really knew Prowl at all.
Like the fact that Prowl enjoyed drinking vintage high grade at Maccadam's.
Who could have guessed right?
And yet here they were, in the bar, at a table surrounded by a full house of noisy mechs from all walks of life, enjoying one of the best vintages to come out of the end of the golden era.
Jazz laughed lightly into his cube as he once again tried to reconcile himself to the thought that Prowl (stickler for the rules and banner of all things contraband –especially the twin's high grade- Prowl) liked to drink vintage brews.
Prowl for his part looked up from the cube he was consuming and frowned at the saboteur.
"Do you find something amusing Jazz?"
Jazz grinned at him and gestured vaguely around the room.
"Not much. I just would never have pictured ya, you know, here." Jazz concluded with another vague wave around the room.
Prowl frowned at him over his cube.
"I have been to this establishment any number of times since taking up residence at Autobot headquarters and I had thought that you would enjoy visiting it on our downtime as well."
Prowl gazed at him, uncertainty resting in his light blue optics. "Is there something else that you would like to do instead?"
Jazz shook his head at the seriousness in Prowl's voice.
"I wasn't criticizing Prowler, I was just makin' an observation."
Prowl scowled at him for the use of the (newly acquired and greatly loathed-much to Jazz's somewhat wicked delight) nickname.
"My name is not Prowler, its Prowl." He replied grumpily.
Jazz smiled upon hearing Prowl grit out his reply. He loved badgering Prowl; it was just so much fun at times.
"Prowlie then?" Jazz teased him again after a beat of silence.
Prowl's scowl deepened and Jazz's smile grew.
"Jazz...!" Prowl hissed a warning at him with a glare.
Seeing that, Jazz held up his hands, conceding defeat.
"Seriously though, I wasn't criticizing your choice of activities. I was just surprised that you would encourage coming to Maccadam's at all considering how strict you are with the rules on the base."
"That's different. The soldiers on base shouldn't be getting overcharged on duty." Prowl sniffed out.
Jazz made a non-committal noise (while he didn't quite endorse getting overcharged on duty, he didn't not endorse it, so he wasn't in any position to say anything) and drained the last of the energon from his cube.
Seeing that he was done Prowl stood up from the table.
"There's one more place that I would like to visit if you would be amenable."
Jazz tilted his head to the side, clearly intrigued at this sudden turn of events.
"Sure." He acquiesced, getting up himself.
Placing a tip on the table the two exited the establishment, leaving the noise and the light behind them.
-TRANSFORMERS_TRANSFORMERS_TRANSFORMERS_TRANSFORME RS-
"Where are we going?" Jazz asked again as they made their way higher and higher through the levels of the streets.
Prowl didn't even turn his head or break his stride as he replied.
"You'll see soon Jazz. We're almost there."
Jazz frowned at him for the ambiguous answer (where had the logical, precise second in command gone?) and continued walking while taking note of their current surroundings.
He had a vague idea as to where they were but he was curious as a litter-full of turbo kittens as to their final destination.
Thus…
"Where are we going? Jazz asked again.
Prowl stopped walking in front of an abandoned building and for a moment Jazz thought that he had finally pushed Prowl a little too far with his (kindly meant) questioning (pestering), but instead Prowl just turned toward him.
"We're here." he answered.
Jazz quirked an optic ridge at him inquisitively and turned to examine the sad sight that was the structure.
It was a darkened husk of a thing; the windows were broken and trash littered the outside (and no doubt the inside as well) and the doorway was askew, allowing those who were brave enough entrance into the dilapidated construction.
"I gotta say Prowl as far as destinations go there are more desirable ones that I had in mind." Jazz quipped out at the end of his cursory examination.
Prowl's only response was to enter the building.
Frowning at Prowl's uncharacteristic actions Jazz shrugged to himself and entered after him, switching on his night vision in order to pick his way around the debris strewn room.
"Prowl?" Jazz called out when he realized that the tactician was not in the area.
"Up here." came Prowl's disembodied voice.
Following the sound, Jazz spotted the stairs in the corner and, resolving to trust that whatever Prowl had in mind wouldn't be dangerous or illegal, (and that was a big leap of faith for him to take at the best of times, even with Prowl who would probably never do something that was purposely illegal or dangerous) started climbing the stairs.
And climbing, and climbing, and climbing.
And climbing.
Up and up and up and up and up.
After the tenth floor however Jazz was starting to get irritable, where was Prowl leading him?
Outweighing the irritability though was curiosity and the urge to find out what Prowl was up to, so he continued climbing, still up and up and up, until he eventually caught up with Prowl at the entrance to the roof.
Wordlessly Prowl held open the door and stepped through with Jazz (whose instincts were buzzing at him incessantly) right behind him.
It took a klick for Jazz to grasp what he was seeing but when it finally registered in his mind he drew in a sharp gasp of air at the sight that met his optics.
Light.
Light as far as he could see was in his optic range.
Jazz walked over to the edge of the roof and took the scene in in appreciation. It was stunning.
Light was shining faint and dimly below, outlining the center of the city and the great dome that the Autobots were using as their headquarters on the planet, and above it all, there were millions and millions of pinpricks of star light in the dark sky above Iacon.
"Whoa." Jazz whistled under his breath at the dazzling vision filling his visual processors.
Awestruck Jazz turned to back to Prowl, wanting to thank him for bringing him up here (and to ask why and how he had found this place), but instead felt his spark beat pause at the look on Prowl's face.
It was nothing short of lustful.
Jazz drew in a shaky breath, left shocked and speechless at the way that prowl was gazing at him.
In the six orns that they had been pursuing this more intimate relationship Prowl had never looked at him like that.
And in a move that further shocked Jazz Prowl didn't even give him time to gather his thoughts together before he literally pounced on him, capturing his mouth in a searing, passion filled kiss that sent his fuel pump into overdrive and ignited the energon in his lines.
Jazz groaned in contentment at the feeling of the tactician's lip plates against his own, not hesitating in kissing Prowl back and eliciting a few groans of his own.
And then suddenly (and how had they gotten there in the first place?) he was lying flat on the rooftop with Prowl above him and they were both taking out orns of sexual frustration and physical tension on each other, their actions saying all that words couldn't.
Finger digits assaulted seams in plating, frantically caressing wires and nerve centers, their magnetic fields were now constantly spiking with increasing pleasure, enhancing the feedback of desire that both mechs were feeling, and their engines were straining and running hotter and hotter as they continued to stroke, pat and rub each other. All of this serving to intensify the enjoyment between them and build a feedback loop full of want and need.
Somewhere in the back of his pleasure filled processor Jazz vowed to never to underestimate Prowl again (in anything).
Then Prowl (armor gleaming deliciously in the dim light) stopped what he was doing and pulled out his data-cable, and Jazz, seeing it there (and never one to let an opportunity like this go by) got the message and eagerly opened his data-port, anticipating the next few breems with a tingle of suspense.
It was a suspense that didn't last long because as soon as his port was open Prowl plugged his data-cable in and Jazz felt his interface program booting up.
And then prowl connected the data-cable into his own port and the two were completely connected, mind and body.
(And about slagging time too!) was Jazz's somewhat ungenerous thought.
There they stayed for one blissful klick; both mechs disheveled and dragging air in raggedly through their vents in an effort to cool their overheated frames, vocalizers half spitting out static from all the noises that they had dragged from the other and the energon in their fuel lines flowing rapidly while their sparks beat out a faltering rhythm in their cases.
It was Jazz's every fantasy about the tactician come true.
Made even better by the fact that Prowl had resumed stroking the seams in the saboteur's plating as he waited for his interface program to completely come online, driving Jazz further into a frenzy of need.
It also felt Primus slagging good.
Never one to be left out, Jazz also resumed his exploration of Prowl's sensitive areas as well, paying particular attention to the tips of his doorwings, and judging by the look on Prowl's face and the strangled moan that he had pulled from the tactician's vocalizer he must have done something right.
As soon as their programs were completely synched Jazz's firewalls pinged at him, asking his permission to let Prowl's own interface programming access his systems and Jazz was just about to happily grant it free reign when the most annoying sound in the universe cut across his haze filled CPU and disrupted the moment.
His emergency alert channel was buzzing at him, vying for his attention.
And by the way that Prowl had abruptly stopped his ministrations and shakily sat up he must have gotten the same alert.
After dragging in a long draught of air to help cool his systems and give them a chance to calm down from all of the frenetic activity he had just been engaged in, Jazz activated his comm., knowing he couldn't (but dearly, dearly, dearly wishing he could) ignore the emergency alert.
"This is Jazz" he said aloud (while silently swearing deactivation with all his spark on the mech who had interrupted this moment).
"Jazz?" came the unexpected voice of Optimus Prime.
"Prime?" and Jazz hoisted himself into an upright position as well, knowing that if Prime was calling then whatever it was couldn't be good, especially since he was using an emergency frequency.
"I apologize for interrupting you and Prowl during your night off, but I need both of you to return to base immediately." Optimus informed him.
Hearing the grim tones in his voice Jazz and Prowl's gazes locked before they both nodded decisively and stood up, disconnecting the data-cable and brushing the dirt off of their frames in an attempt to make themselves look at least somewhat presentable.
"Understood Prime, we'll be there within the cycle, Prowl and Jazz out."
In lockstep the two Autobot officers stepped through the door to the stairwell, their mood now the complete opposite of what it had been just a few breems before.
-TRANSFORMERS_TRANSFORMERS_TRANSFORMERS_TRANSFORME RS-
Two cycles later saw an assembly of the highest ranking Autobot officers sitting in a secure meeting room, staring at the table's holo-rendering of what Bumblebee had been debriefing the command staff about.
"What is it?" Ratchet finally ventured to ask the question that was on all of their processors.
There was silence as the officers turned in their seats to stare again at the device and contemplate its purpose.
It was Perceptor who broke them out of their thoughts.
"I have little evidence to form a hypothesis, but from all indications and Bumblebee's testimony it appears to be a drilling device of some kind."
"Drillin'?" Jazz frowned at the 3D image and nodded. "Makes sense. But drillin' for what?"
"That I cannot say." The scientist said.
"It could be anything" Wheeljack speculated, adding his own two credits on to Preceptor's theory "but if we think about it logically then my guess is it would be something that we're all running short on lately."
"Then you think that the Decepticons are drilling for energon?" Prowl asked the engineer for clarification.
"It does make sense." Jazz broke into the discussion again. "I can't see Megatron expending all that time, all those resources, and all that energy unless there was a huge payoff at the end of the proverbial tunnel."
"We're sure that it's energon though? Couldn't they just be redecorating one of their bases?" piped up another officer from the other side of the table.
"Must be one pit of a redecoration then. That hole is huge." answered another, frowning again at the image floating above the table.
"Do we have any idea how big that hole is or how deep they've drilled into the planet?" a different commander asked.
"No." This time it was Bumblebee himself who answered the question. "My team couldn't get close enough to the device to take any measurements without risking our cover."
"You and your team have done well Bumblebee. You're all to be commended for your bravery and speediness in bringing this information to us." Optimus praised the yellow scout, taking control of the conversation.
Gazing at the image, Optimus addressed his officers.
"I think we can all agree that whatever the Decepticons are doing, it can't be good news. If they have discovered a new source of energon then we need to get to it first, if it is something else it still needs to be stopped."
There were mumbles of agreement as the Prime turned to look at his head of special operations.
"Jazz you will lead a team to gather information on this new device that the Decepticons are using." Jazz tilted his head in acknowledgment of the orders and Optimus continued. "Everyone else will be contacted if their talents or resources are needed for the mission. In the meantime I suggest we all get back to our recharge berths and our posts. " Optimus finished talking and there were nods all around at his words before the meeting officially broke up and mechs started streaming out the doors , anxious to get back to what they were doing before the emergency gathering had been called.
Jazz signaled for Bumblebee to hang back for a klick so that he could add in his own congratulations and praise and schedule a private debriefing with his scout before the yellow mech also exited and finally only Prowl and Jazz were left in the meeting area.
"Well, this is not how I pictured the end of the night in my head." Jazz stated somewhat grumpily while standing up and unplugging Bumblebee's data-padd from the computer before turning off the holo-projector on the table.
Prowl's doorwings slumped, showing his disappointment with how their time off had ended as well.
"I confess that I had other plans for the night as well." The tactician admitted in an aggrieved voice.
Jazz laughed and made his way over to the SIC, draping himself tightly around the white and black bot, being careful not to jar his doorwings.
"Night's not over yet." Jazz observed casually, the suggestion of what he wanted to do clear in his voice.
To his credit Prowl actually seemed to be considering what he said before he shook his head in the negative.
"You are incorrigible." Prowl finally sighed through his vents.
"But…" Jazz continued his thought.
"Optimus will want our infiltration plans for you and your team as soon as possible. We should get started on them." Prowl said, reasoning with the saboteur.
This time it was Jazz's turn to sigh, acknowledging Prowl's (as always) irrefutable logic.
"Alright." He huffed out in a disappointed voice and made his way to the door.
"Later Jazz, I promise." Prowl whispered to him as they made their way to their offices, assuaging a little of the frustration that he was sure that they were both feeling at this point.
And that's that. I know that this is waaaayyyy overdue, but sometimes life just works out like that. On the bright side like I said I have this story pretty much completely plotted out and (somewhat) ample free time so I should be able to get chapters out at a fairly steady rate, and as it's only going to be 10 chapters it should be pretty quick. But famous last words right?
Have a good week y'all. KG.