Hey Everyone, I know I haven't posted anything in a while but I'm just getting my creative juices flowing again. I'm reading through Life of a Datsun to work out what to write next (I've managed to forget most of what has happened so far). So, fear not, I still remember that I have stories that require finishing. Here are a few oneshots about Prowl and Jazz, in G1 and Movieverse. Each part is written to a different song.

Never Forget You-Birdy

Jazz landed on earth with the hope that maybe Prowl had already landed. They had been apart for so long and all he wanted to do was hold his bonded. Hold his frame close and bask in the warmth emanating from Prowl's vents.

When he makes landfall, he realises that Prowl isn't here; that his bonded is somewhere in space. Where, he doesn't have a clue. The silver bot doesn't let the others on the team know what he had hoped, keeping it to himself.

Jazz gets caught up in finding the cube as much as each of the other bots on the team. The saboteur couldn't care less about the cube, at this point all he wants is his bonded; His quirky mech, with doorwings and a gleaming black paint job.

The battle occurs in Mission City and Jazz doesn't think for a moment about attacking Megatron, about the possible consequences. He goes into the battle guns blazing, willing to lay down his life for the team. He doesn't expect his life to end there, but it does. He feels the pain that rips through his chassis, feels his spark calling out to Prowl. His last thought is that he wished he could have seen Prowl once more before he passed to the Well of Sparks.

Prowl feels the death from far away. He whispers into space, "I will never forget you."

Arabella-Arctic Monkeys

The first time Prowl sees Jazz it's at a club. He's just gotten off shift at the local enforcer division and his fellow officers have dragged him out to a local club. They claim he needs to loosen up a bit more, to let himself go a little. Prowl thinks that is a bit of a stupid request, there are much better uses of his time.

The red chevroned mech hates the press of the crowd against his frame, his hyper sensitive doorwings being brushed up against on every side. All he wants is the quiet solitude of his room back at the apartment he shares with his siblings. The high grade in hand is much too rich for his tastes and his processor is pinging him with alarms in regards to recharge. There is no escaping from the evening though, not with the fellow enforcers watching him so closely.

Prowl looks up from where he is staring into his energon to spot a black and white frame. It doesn't have any doorwings, unusual in Praxus. The mech is smaller than he is, slips through the crowd with ease. The mech seems to be delighting in the club atmosphere, a grin across his face. Prowl looks at that face and realises he will stay a little longer, if only to get the mech's name

Young and Beautiful-Lana Del Ray

When Jazz comes back online the first thing he sees is grey, grey beams, grey ceiling. His optics shutter and he tries to move to sit up. He can't move and there is a moment of panic. He tries to even move his head but he can't.

The silver mech can't remember much of what happened, only that the last thing he knew he was battling Megatron. His plating hurts and he can feel the pressure of fresh welds across his mid-section plating.

There must be one ugly scar there, he thinks to himself. I wonder how long it has been since I offlined, is his second. So much time could have past. What if Prowl has found a new partner? Jazz feels some surety that Prowl wasn't in the Well of Sparks.

Will Prowl still love him? Prowl was always Jazz's light, his hope. To everyone else Jazz was a put together mech, always in control of the situation, never unhappy. Prowl was the only one who saw through that, realised that sometimes Jazz needed someone to lean on.

Now all Jazz can do is hope that Prowl will love him no matter how much time has passed.

Express-Christina Aguilera

Prowl keeps returning to the club, week after week despite his hate of being in crowded places. He just has to see that black and white bot again and again. Prowl managed to get a designation, Jazz. The mech seemed to love the club scene, even convinced Prowl to dance with him.

Prowl wanted to get to know the mech outside of the clubs but the mech never responded to his comms throughout the day. The red chevroned mech had to wait until he went to the club to even catch sight of the other bot.

The music tonight is extra loud and sensuous. It puts a strain on Prowl's helm as soon as he walks into the room. It will be worth it as long as he manages to find Jazz. He's come later tonight and he worries that the other bot has already left.

As Prowl walks in his attention is captured by the stage. He doesn't even make it to the bar when he realises who is on stage. Jazz. The mech is at centre stage with some other bots, moving his body to the song. The moves are choreographed well and Jazz is completely into it. His outer armour gleams under the stage lights and his smile is sultry. Every mech in the room has their optics focused on his frame. Prowl realises, right then that there is no way he could even think of letting this bot get away from him. This is the only bot he can ever see himself with. At this point Prowl decides to get his drink and make a plan. He'll need a good one if he is to capture the spark of the lively, sociable bot.

Let's Get It On - TPain

Prowl can't believe he's here, at this point. His plan must've worked, he thinks absently. Right now he's being led into Jazz's quarters. Jazz lives on the opposite side of Praxus but that doesn't particularly matter. He's here right now.

The room is small and the two mechs are desperate. Prowl lets himself be pushed over onto the berth by the smaller frame of Jazz. The fans on Prowl's frame kick in as Jazz climbs on top of him, pinning him to the berth. The smaller mech rubs his frame against the larger one, cod pieces coming into contact. Prowl hisses and arches his back. He wants to be closer to Jazz, he doesn't like the teasing.

"Shhhh, mah Prowler. I'll get ya there," Jazz whispers as he removes his own codpiece. Nimble fingers are at the side of his cod-piece and remove it swiftly. Prowl's valve is now exposed to the air, as is his spike. There is no easy way to ask another mech whether he wishes to top or bottom and Prowl hesitates.

"Ah wan' your spike," Jazz murmurs, valve brushing over Prowl's interface equipment.

Prowl shutters his optics and lets his spike pressurise. He can tell that this is going to a long night, but he's looking forward to every moment of it.