Disclaimer- I don't own Transformers. That right goes to Hasbro.

Warning- Crack, implied yaoi, AU.

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Jazz reclined on his berth, Prowl sprawled on top of him. They were just relaxing, talking about the mission that Jazz had just come home from. The door chimed, and both 'bots looked at the door. "C'mon in!" Jazz called.

The doors slid open to reveal Bumblebee. He held two data pads in his hands. "Hi, guys. I kinda copied a survey I saw, and was wondering if you would take it?" He asked, optics widened hopefully.

Jazz grinned and held his hand out. "Hand it here, 'Bee. I'll do it." Bumblebee handed him both pads. Jazz quirked an optic ridge. "I don' think Prowler's gonna take it."

"No, I won't. I will sit here, and distract Jazz to the best of my ability." Prowl muttered.

At this comment, Jazz grinned down at the scowling Prowl. "Aw, c'mon, Prowler. Ya can help me take it." At Prowl's look, Jazz shrugged. "Ya know me better than I know me."

Prowl relented as Bumblebee excused himself. Once the mini-bot was gone, Jazz turned his attention to the pad in his hand. As he worked, Prowl would comment on his answers, and poke fun at him. Until he reached question thirteen.

13) Do you care if people hate you?

Nope. I really don't give a good damn.

Prowl laughed as he read Jazz's answer. He then looked up at Jazz. "You've never really given a happy damn, have you?"

Jazz shook his head, then paused. "A happy damn?" He asked, eyeing Prowl.

Prowl shrugged. "Sure. Why can't a damn be happy?"

This had to be hurting his processor. Or not. Either way, Jazz frowned. "How can a damn be happy? They generally ain't happy things."

Prowl half-smiled as he shrugged. "How can they be hot?" At Jazz's blank look, he clarified. "Why can there be hot damns, but no happy damns?"

Jazz just sat there, and stared at the tactician. "How come you ain't lockin' up yet?"

Prowl grimaced. "Sheer force of will. It's taking all of my concentration."

Jazz opened his mouth, but shut it again when Prowl glared at him. "Primus help me, Jazz. If you make me lock up, once Ratchet fixes me up, I'll come after you."

Jazz grinned. "Seriously? A happy damn?"

Prowl narrowed his optics threateningly at Jazz, who looked back at him innocently. "Jazz. . ."

"I'm bein' serious!" Jazz protested when Prowl popped him on the back of the helm.

"I don't care. Stop trying to make me lock up." Prowl said, optics narrowed with much intent.

"I'm not tryin' to!" Jazz muttered. "I'm just tryin' ta figure out the logistics of this. For someone who needs everythin' to be logical, this definitely ain't logical."

Prowl smiled up at Jazz. "Well, it made perfect sense to me. Until you started asking me to explain."

"I'm only askin' 'cause I'm confused. How can a damn be hap-" Jazz felt a tingle around his midsection and looked down. "Uh-oh. Ratch ain't gonna like this at all."

Because while Jazz mused out loud, Prowl's processor crashed from Jazz's persistence of trying to figure out how a damn was happy.

Jazz sucked in a fortifying breath, and carried Prowl to the med bay. Ratchet looked up from where he was banging several dents out of Sideswipe's armor.

Ratchet's optics zeroed in on Prowl. "What happened?"

Jazz offered a sheepish grin. "I accidentally made his CPU crash." He tried to duck when he saw the wrench fly at his helm.

WHANG!

Jazz hit the ground, Prowl still in his arms. "Will ya fix his CPU, or what?" He asked, rubbing the sore spot on his helm.

Ratchet grunted and motioned to an empty berth. "Put him there, and get the frag out."

Jazz did as instructed, and to quote Ratchet, got the frag out. Two hours later, Prowl walked out, and glared at Jazz.

Jazz offered Prowl a bright smile. "I figured it out! The only way a damn can be happy is if you're happy when you say it!" He said, giving Prowl a triumphant grin. The grin faded from Jazz's face as Prowl's optics blanked, and he fell face forward. "Aw, slag. Not again."

"JAZZ!"

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A/N- I'm not too sure who I feel sorrier for, Jazz or Prowl. Either way, Ratchet is not gonna be a happy camper. This fic was spawned from an actual conversation that my best friend and I had. The question and answer used in this fic is the actual question, and my response to it. I got dubbed Jazz, and she's Prowl.